The Demon and The Priestess
by DemonicPriestessOfBalance
Summary: On opposite sides of a war love springs from an unlikely source. But with opposing loyalties pulling them apart will they ever know happiness or will the memories and dreams of what could have been forever haunt them.
1. Prologue

The choir of voices ascended to the far corners of the cathedral, where sculptured warriors listened with somber faces to the Latin words. Shining white marble pillars spiraled down to the steps of the great altar. At the top stair stood Queen Midoriko. Behind her stood eight small girls dressed in immaculate white robes, each holding a red velvet pillow with white tassels at each corner. Upon every silky velvet pillow there rested a resplendent glowing sword. Above and behind the girls, golden statues of Priestesses stretched out their cold arms in welcome and forgiveness with unseeing eyes.

The Queen shifted her regal stance, her gaze locked on the tall wooden doors at the back of the Shrine. She knew eight young men waited anxiously outside, their breath tight in their chests, their palms slick with nervous sweat. Each one would enter as a squire filled with a boy's apprehension, and each one would leave as a knight of the realm filled with a warrior's pride.

One of the banners caught his eye. It was for Kagome De Higurashi, the third son of Baroness Sango Taija De Higurashi. Queen Midoriko scanned the mass of people before her until they came to rest on two men – the elder De Higurashi brothers. They were tall, even by knightly standards. Sota was fair; his dark hair, liquid brown eyes, and boyish looks were rumored to have cost more than one maiden her virtue. Kohaku was dark, with chestnut eyes and a heart of gold. Both were skilled warriors, and this pleased the Queen, for she knew Kagome would make an excellent addition to her troops. She studied the brothers closely. They shifted from foot to foot nervously; even Kohaku, who was usually so calm, seemed unsettled. The Queen frowned. Perhaps the two men were uncomfortable with the civil surroundings and were eager to be out of the church. Queen Midoriko sympathized. The De Higurashi's were, after all, known for their prowess in battle, not their sociability.

The Queen glanced over row upon row of nobles in their elegant satins and velvets. The Countess of Burgundy was there. Not far from her, the flamboyant golden caul headdress of the Duchess of Orleans caught his eye. Slowly, his brow creased into a frown as he finished surveying the attending nobility. Where was Kagome's father?

The choir of voices that had filled the chamber suddenly ended, their last echoes resonating throughout the cathedral until they slipped away into nothingness.

Glancing toward the trumpeters awaiting her signal in the balcony, Queen Midoriko nodded. When they put the long golden horns to their lips, the triumphant music began. All eyes turned to the heavy oak doors at the back of the church as they slowly creaked open.

Eight squires advanced down the long carpeted aisle, one behind the other. Sunlight streamed in from the stained glass windows, reflecting brilliantly off the shining silver-and-gold plate mail of the approaching men. Queen Midoriko squinted as a ray of light shone in her eyes. He tried to be a fair man, judging all men equally, but he found himself anxious to see Kagome De Higurashi, around whom so much controversy swirled. The first time his name had reached the Queen's ears, it was with the capture of Castle Picardy, the feat that had earned him his knighthood. Queen Midoriko had heard the same story three times, and with each telling, Kagome's achievements had seemed to grow until they were of Herculean proportions. Since then, the name Kagome De Higurashi had arisen time and time again in casual conversation. The man's strategic maneuvers were ingenious.

The initiates climbed the stairs to the great altar and bowed before the Queen, then stepped aside to form a row before their lady. As the squire preceding De Higurashi bowed, Queen Midoriko tried not to seem obvious as she peered over the top of the man's head to get a glimpse of Kagome. Finally, like a curtain being drawn, the squire stepped aside and Kagome De Higurashi was revealed to Queen Midoriko. The initiate still wore his helmet. All traces of astonishment disappeared as anger descended over the Queen. It was disrespectful for anyone to wear a helmet in the house of The Gods. The young man's headgear covered most of his face except for his eyes. Queen Midoriko could see the striking blueness of them; they shimmered in the shadows of his helmet like a great cloudless sky. Her gaze raked the young man again. He is very small indeed, the Queen thought. I cannot believe the great Baron De Higurashi squired this runt. Perhaps De Higurashi is absent because he is embarrassed by his son's size.

Under her scrutiny, the Queen saw Kagome's deep blue eyes fill with pride, and something else. Before she could discern what that strange spark was, Kagome fell to one knee, bowing his head in reverence.

Somewhat pacified, Queen Midoriko commanded quietly, "Remove your helmet, Kagome," and turned to retrieve a ceremonial sword cushioned upon a pillow of velvet. As she reverently removed the sword, the Queen heard rustling and the clang of armor behind her and knew Kagome was removing his helmet.

Suddenly, a collective gasp spread through the crowd like the wind whistling through a field of wheat. Queen Midoriko whirled at the sound. Her eyes grew wide and she gaped as the reason for the young man's diminutive stature became quite apparent. The "man" was not a man at all!

He was a she!

Why, she could be no more than fifteen! Amazement rocked her like a blow to his stomach, leaving her breathless and stunned. The girl's soft dark hair cascaded in waves over the metal shoulder plates. Her nose was a delicate sculpture of perfection, her lips full. Her chin was strong, with a slight cleft etched into it. Beauty shimmered beneath her childlike features. She had the innocent face of a cherub…an angel. Queen Midoriko stared for a long moment. The Queen knew now what that look in her sapphire eyes had been: defiance. It accented her features with determination.

The Queen turned to glance at her brothers. Kohaku had suddenly found interest in a piece of imaginary lint on his spotless white velvet tunic, and Sota was studying the painted angels on the stained glass windows. Queen Midoriko's lips thinned and her gaze returned to Kagome.

A girl! How had she been able to keep this secret? She wondered.

Queen Midoriko stared in shock. No wonder Baron De Higurashi is not here, she thought. She gripped the sword tightly until her knuckles hurt with the effort. She knew she should not knight her, that she should be punished for her audacity, but her deeds surpassed the defiance that her stubborn raised little chin represented. She wanted her in her army, needed her strategic skills. These were desperate times.

She lifted the sword in a sweeping gesture and saw her body stiffen, as if expecting a blow. She brought the sword down, lightly touching the tip of the blade to each of her shoulders in the customary colee, finishing with, "Rise, Sir Kagome De Higurashi."

The young girl slowly and unsteadily rose to her feet. Her large eyes were wide, ringed with happiness; her rosy lips were parted in disbelief.

Queen Midoriko bent close to her and laid her hand on her shoulder. "Kagome, the road before you will be laced with hardship. Be a true knight, and courageous in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright. And remember that you spring from a bloodline that has always been strong."

"I shall," Kagome said earnestly, her expression solemn.

The Queen held out the sword to her. Kagome carefully took the gleaming blade in her bare palms and pressed her lips to it before accepting it from Queen Midoriko's hands. She studied the sword for a quick moment; a flash of pride lighting up her soft features, then slid it into the scabbard at her waist.

Queen Midoriko leaned in close to whisper, "However, if you or your brothers ever pull a trick like this again, I will have your heads." She straightened to her full height and proclaimed, "Now. Be thou a knight."

Kagome bowed, giving Queen Midoriko her loyalty and her gratitude. The Queen repeated the knighting seven more times, after which she stood back and watched as the men – and the woman – turned as one to face the congregation. Kagome led the way down the aisle. As she passed her awestruck brothers, the Queen watched Kagome shoot them a smug look of triumph. Throwing her shoulders back, holding her chin high, Sir Kagome De Higurashi strolled confidently past the mass of whispering people.


	2. Chapter 1

The cheers from the gathered crowd sounded like a thunderous rain as the horses charged at each other, their hooves kicking up dirt from the grassy field. The two knights, fully armored for this joust, bent low over the heads of their equally well-protected mounts, their brightly striped lances gripped firmly. The white plume on the helmet of the challenger knight appeared defeated and submissive as it flattened under the rush of wind created by his speeding stallion. The champion shifted his shield to the front of his body, where the challenger could see it – a snarling White dog strikingly painted against a navy background. Through the slit in the challenger's visor, the champion saw his opponent's eyes widen in fear. Seconds later, the champion's lance struck the challenger's chest, the wooden tip crunching as it hit the man's breastplate, and lifted him cleanly from his horse, depositing him roughly on the ground.

The crowd sprang to its feet, wild with applause and shouts of joy. The champion slowed his horse and turned, raising the visor of his helmet to reveal Gold, frozen eyes. These orbs watched patiently as his staggering opponent was helped to his feet by his squire. Sesshomaru Tashio waited for the defeated knight to stumble from the arena before he urged his horse around the field for his victory lap.

The peasants who lined the jousting field's fence shouted his success. "Demon! Demon!" The rush of power that surged through his veins at every joust, at every triumph, gave Sesshomaru the feeling of invincibility. He savored the taste like a favored wine, relished the shouts. He had never known defeat, either in battle or in Tournament.

As he rode past the nobles' stand, all the women batted their eyelashes at him and some bent over the wooden railing to dangle their favors before him. He gladly accepted them – all of them. But he returned most of their heated, lusty gazes with a cool disdain. These pampered and powdered women brought only an occasional twinge of curiosity to his mind. They were all too much alike to be of any real interest. Some men cast him envious glances, while others seethed quietly. Finally, Sesshomaru came to a halt before King Tashios chair. He dismounted and bowed before his sovereign.

Tashio grinned at him and stood. The king was a tall and muscular man, his Silver hair Held in a high ponytail. The crowd quieted as Sesshomaru approached the stand. He slid his helmet from his head to reveal a thick mane of long Silver hair that fell to the middle of his lower legs. It gleamed in the sunlight, wet with moisture. His face was pale despite the harsh sunlight. There was an inherent power in the set of his jaw, the sensual curve of his lips, his golden eyes.

"You have done well today, as always," King Tashio said loudly so all could hear. "You are truly The West's champion." Huzzahs and gleeful shouts erupted into a deafening roar. Tashio bent toward Sesshomaru. "Come, walk with me, Sesshomaru," he commanded.

Sesshomaru led his mount across the field and handed the reins to his waiting squire as a small girl ducked under the wooden fence that surrounded the field and dashed up to him. Sesshomaru smiled and ruffled the child's dark hair as the girl exclaimed, "You were great!" Her eyes shone with excitement and admiration. "I knew he wouldn't defeat you."

"You had doubts, Rin?" Sesshomaru wondered, a mock frown drawing his lips into a pout. "Never!" Rin exploded. Sesshomaru couldn't help but smile at the pride and boundless love that emanated from those large, inquisitive brown eyes. Then he noticed the dirt that dusted Rin's small hands as the girl reached for his helmet. Sesshomaru quickly surveyed the girl's orange cotton dress, noticing with mild annoyance that it was spotted with mud. He ran a finger along one of Rin's cheeks, leaving a trail of clean skin through the dirt. "You should bathe," Sesshomaru offered, showing her the smudge that stained his fingertip.

The girl groaned and shuffled her feet. "I hate bathing," She mumbled.

Sesshomaru sympathized with her. As a youth, he had hated to bathe. It took up too much of his time and there were more important matters to attend to…such as imitating the knights. "A knight cannot meet the king with dirt on her face," Sesshomaru told him. Rin nodded grudgingly. "All right."

Sesshomaru's dark eyes searched the dais for his king. He found the platform empty and followed the path of rich blues and satiny golds of the court until he spotted the king heading for the streets that led into the town. As Sesshomaru turned to leave, he heard Rin say, "I hope to be as great a knight as you."

Sesshomaru paused, turning back to the girl. Runt gazed up at him in wonder; his big brown eyes round with admiration. "You will," Sesshomaru promised, before moving toward the dais. A procession of fashionably dressed lords and ladies followed the king, as always, and Sesshomaru was hard pressed to catch up with him with the weight of his plate armor impeding his movement. In his hurry, he almost stepped on a duke's long green cloak. The duchess accompanying the duke turned a shy smile to Sesshomaru, a wisp of her pleated coiffure at the very top of her head flapping with each step. Sesshomaru bowed slightly and rushed by her. At a fast walk, he managed to reach King Tashio as he stopped to speak with a man selling apple cider.

"The cider is wonderful in the village. No matter how hard they try, my servants can never duplicate it," King Tashio told Sesshomaru, handing a goblet full to him and sipping his own.

Sesshomaru nodded absently. He glanced at the nobles trailing the king like well-trained falcons, vying for his attention. Sesshomaru did not miss the contemptuous stares many of the nobles cast his way as he sipped the cider. ' _S_ _lightly salty, good_ though' He thought. He despised them and their pretentious ways. If they sought attention, they should act – take a castle, contribute finances to the impending war. Instead, they hoped to win the king's favor with their beautiful clothing and their pretty faces and witty words. It was to Sesshomaru's credit that Tashio chose to speak with him and not one of the fanciful dressers. The king was not a fool.

"I have been told it is a secret of the Rosaria family," the Earl of March said. He wore a golden houppelande that flowed to the ground and was embroidered with flowers. The edges of his long sleeves were cut in the shape of leaves and trimmed with jewels. He was the most prettily dressed of all the nobles.

"Yes, well…" The king waved a hand, dismissing the matter and the earl, and turned to continue down the dusty street. The sun was hot, the ground parched. The dust rose in little whirlwinds on the road before them. Sesshomaru walked at King Tashio's side, towering above most of the lords; only the king was not dwarfed by his size. In plate mail, Sesshomaru Tashio was an enviable vision.

"There are far too many ears in the streets, don't you agree, Sesshomaru?" King Tashio wondered. "Aye," Sesshomaru answered, and followed as the king cut through the village to the countryside.

The Earl of March tried vainly to keep up. He was panting hard when he produced a lace handkerchief and patted his forehead with it. "It is a hot day, isn't it, my liege?" he called. King Tashio cast him a sour glance. "March, go see to the countess. I believe she is having as hard a time keeping up as you."

Sesshomaru's gaze shifted to the countess. She had swooned into a man's arms and was being eased to the ground. Most of the court had lagged behind by now, and it was quite apparent to Sesshomaru that the king wished to speak with him in private. He wondered if the earl was truly so oblivious. But the earl simply bowed, saying, "As you wish."

King Tashio continued into the grasslands of the countryside. Sesshomaru followed, thinking it was becoming much too hot to be wandering through the countryside in sixty-six pounds of plate mail.

"How are things for you, Sesshomaru?" King Tashio asked, taking a sip of cider. Sesshomaru shrugged his large shoulders slightly. "Moonlight Castle is in capable hands. The peasants are producing enough to support the lands. I believe it will be a good year."

Tashio nodded. "Good." He stopped walking and looked out over the fields that stretched before them. The wild grass seemed to sigh as a breeze drifted through the long blades that reached to Sesshomaru's mid-calf. "Then you are prepared to leave The West at a moment's notice?" "Aye," Sesshomaru said anxiously. He had been waiting months for the fleet of Western ships to cast off for The East. "We leave soon, then?"

Tashio gazed hard at Sesshomaru. "There is rumor of a plot against my life. I fear that I may not get to The East as soon as I would like." Sesshomaru frowned, his body stiffening with suppressed anger. "My lord, I offer my services to find out if these rumors are true."

Tashio smiled a weary grin. "I have others who will be my ears and eyes." Sesshomaru scowled, ready to object. Tashio continued, "No, Sesshomaru, you are a fighter. I need you in The East. I cannot leave The West until this is resolved." He lifted the goblet to his lips again and continued walking. Sesshomaru followed.

"Have you heard anything of this Eastern knight called the Herald of Death?" the king wondered. Anxiety rippled through Sesshomaru like a flag in a soft breeze. Sesshomaru had heard of his deeds, but he knew little of the man. Still, the way the king had asked…it was as though he were being tested. "I have heard the name."

Tashio turned to Sesshomaru, his inquisitive eyes asking for details, his raised eyebrows encouraging more. "He has taken and held land for the Priestesses," Sesshomaru continued, and watched as a smile tugged the king's lips before he averted his gaze. Sesshomaru's brows drew together in confusion. "He does well for his country," he added, shifting uneasily. He had somehow failed the test, and it annoyed him.

"Yes, he does, doesn't he?" Tashio chuckled. "Is there more to know?" "Much." Gradually, Tashio's smiled faded and he slowed his pace. His words were thoughtful and full of woe as he spoke. "The Herald of Death has caused more enemy deaths than any other Eastern lord. This knight is unlike any we have ever come across." "He is mortal. Blood runs through his veins. And that blood can be spilled." "According to rumor, this Herald of Death has ice for blood." "Pah. Rumor is the gossip of cowards." "Yes. I suppose it is – Prince of Demons."

Surprise rocked Sesshomaru. He knew he shouldn't have been amazed that the king had heard the name, but he could not suppress the shock that flooded his body. The rumors had traveled so fast….and so far! The court. It thrived on any kind of gossip. "The peasants labeled me that," he explained. "Not without reason, I hear." "I am merciless only to our enemies, my lord." "And that is why you must be the one to go to The East and find the Herald of Death. There are ships waiting to take you and your army across the channel."

"Do you wish to keep him for ransom?"

"I would prefer a ransom. We can use the finances for the war. But if you cannot take the knight captive, then take this Heralds's life. I will join you in The East as soon as I can."

"As you wish, sire." Sesshomaru bowed slightly. "Many men have fallen beneath the knight's sword," King Tashio added. "Be cautious." Sesshomaru nodded and took a step away. The king stayed him once again with his hand. "I warn you, Sesshomaru: do not underestimate the Herald of Death."

King Tashio watched Sesshomaru Tashio stride away. Perhaps he should have told him. But if he knew the truth, Tashio was sure he would underestimate their enemy by far too much. Besides, the man needed a jolt to disturb that confident gait of his. He only hoped his stubborn head strong son would be able to kill this Herald of Death…when he found out she was a woman.


	3. Chapter 2

The clang of metal against metal rang out in the large clearing as the two swords met, the echoing melody of their clash spreading throughout the surrounding forest. 

"Watch out for her parry!" a voice called, joining the reverberating tune as it reflected off the nearby trees. Kohaku De Higurashi lounged on his side in the thick grass, his objective gaze scrutinizing the combatants as they swung their heavy broadswords. He nodded with satisfaction as his sister, tiny compared with Sota's height and broad shoulders, easily deflected a thrust of her brother's. Kohaku chuckled low in his throat, his brown eyes twinkling merrily. She was good. She knew the limitations of her sword and her strength well; she was patient and observant. This made her a very dangerous opponent despite her size. 

Kagome finished an arc, the impact of the weapons jarring her arm. She stepped back, panting. A trickle of perspiration ran from her hairline down her cheek, sparkling in the sun like a diamond. She brushed a strand of brown hair from her forehead with her free arm. 

A perfect smile lit Sota's boyish face. "Come, come. You cannot tell me that you tire after so few exchanges!" A cold grin stretched across her shapely lips. "I tell you no such thing, Brother. Only to guard your blind side." Kagome lunged and then feinted right. Sota caught the blow with some effort and countered with an arc overhead.

Kagome sidestepped the swing and Sota's blade crashed into the ground. As he pulled it up, a clump of dirt came with it, impaled on the tip of his blade. "You know she's too quick for you, Sota," Kohaku called. Kagome laughed at the dirt on Sota's sword. "Don't take your anger out on the ground, Sota. Your opponent stands before you, not below you."

Sota came after Kagome with two quick lunges. She easily parried the blows and drove forward with an arc of her own, then retreated and stood staring at Sota. "Little sister, you're growing up," Sota commented. "Don't goad her, Sota," Kohaku advised, too late.

Kagome suddenly charged her brother, hitting him in the stomach with her shoulder. The impact knocked him onto his back. Breathless, Sota lay stunned for a moment. Before he could recover, Kagome stepped on the wrist of his sword arm and placed the tip of her weapon to Sota's neck. "Yield or die," she stated. 

"I yield to the Herald of Death!" Sota hollered good-naturedly. 

Kagome lifted her foot from his wrist and withdrew her sword. She gently kicked his arm with her booted foot. "I hate it when you call me 'little sister'." Sota sat up, rubbing his wrist. "I won't make that mistake again." Kagome stepped back, offering her brother a hand. Sota clasped it and she helped him to his feet. "That was a good move," Sota commented. "But a little reckless." "It beat you," Kagome replied, bending to pick up a cloth from the lush grass.

"If I had raised my sword, you would have run right into it." "But you didn't," Kagome said, wiping the cloth smoothly over her blade. "Don't criticize my move just because it landed you on your buttocks. You yielded. I won. There are no 'ifs'." "She has a point," Kohaku agreed, stepping up beside Kagome. "She beat you and I'm afraid it grates on your nerves." "Nonsense!" Sota exclaimed, brushing the grass from his yellow tunic. "I simply –" 

"Herald!" a tiny voice called from the forest, interrupting Sota. 

Kagome's head shot up and she saw her page, Shippo, crashing through the bushes in his hurry to reach her. His brown cotton smock caught on a branch, but he quickly yanked it free and continued toward her, gasping, "Herald!" Kagome placed her hand on his shoulder. "Take a breath, Shippo, and tell me what's happened."

"We…" he started, breathlessly. "A deep breath," Kagome urged. Shippo drew in a long breath and blurted out, "We've caught an Englishman, m'lady!" Kagome raised an anxious gaze to Kohaku before moving to retrace Shippo's path. She heard the heavy footfalls of her brothers as they followed her into their camp. The scent of venison wafted to her on a light breeze and her stomach rumbled despite her anxiety. She maneuvered through the sporadically placed tents like an expert, dodging a barking dog, stepping around two men who were absorbed in a game of chess. 

She slowed upon seeing Miroku Houshi, her advance scout, approaching. "You found him?" she asked. "Aye, m'lady," Miroku replied. 

It always unnerved Kagome to speak with Miroku, for while he was the best scout she had, looking into his face was like gazing into an emotionless abyss. His eyes were black, so black that she could not discern the pupil from the iris. Miroku had never done anything to earn her suspicion; on the contrary, he was a loyal fighter, as good at staffplay as he was at disappearing into the shadows, but there was something cold about him that set off every warning within Kagome. He loved the sun, so his skin remained tan, far more so than she was. His skill at infiltrating The West was what had earned him Kagome's respect; his command of the Western language surpassed even her own. "Where?" she demanded. "Northwest of here," he answered. "He said he was separated from his army. Lost." 

Kagome moved past him, eager to see her enemy. As she neared the prisoner tents, she noticed that, suspiciously, more than a few of her men were seated near one tent. Each head was bent over their work, the men diligently sharpening weapons or polishing armor until it sparkled like a gem. Kagome knew they were eagerly awaiting the outcome of the interrogation. It had been almost two weeks since they had seen any battle, and they were eager to confront the West. 

"What can I do, Herald?" Shippo wondered. Kagome stopped and the boy ran up before her. He was panting vigorously and Kagome knew he had run the entire way to keep up with them. She smiled at him and patted his unruly hair before carefully handing her sword and bow to him. "Take this to my tent. Then find Mel to look after it." 

Shippo's brown eyes widened as he stared at the blade. "Aye, m'lady," he whispered reverently. He gazed at it a moment longer before heading toward her tent at a slow, careful walk. Kagome exchanged a grim look with Sota before continuing. Two guards stood outside the tent, looking more like stone gargoyles poised on the pillars of a church than like men. They were clothed in chain mail, white tunics washing over the metal links that protected their bodies. Kagome shoved the tent flap aside and entered. 

The prisoner was tied to a large, planted stake, bound hand and foot. Small in build, and dressed in a leather jerkin, the Westernman reminded Kagome more of a squire than a foot soldier. His jaw was set with determination, his dark eyes cautious and distrustful. He assessed Sota and Kohaku with a swift glance and his lip curled. When his gaze turned to Kagome, his eyes widened in surprise. He was not dirty. His cheeks were not sunken from lack of food, nor were his lips parched from lack of water.

"He is not lost," she muttered. She didn't think the prisoner would understand her Eastern words but murmured just in case. "I agree," Kohaku stated.

Kagome stepped toward the prisoner. Sota followed protectively and stood beside her. "What lord do you serve?" Kagome asked the man in perfect Western. His brow furrowed in confusion and his gaze slowly traveled over her body appreciatively. She straightened slightly as his insolent, laughing gaze locked with her eyes. Sota slapped the man's impudent face and the blow twisted the man's head to the side. A silver chain around the prisoner's neck glinted in the candlelight. 

Kagome stepped forward and the man gazed down at her with defiant eyes as she peeled his jerkin aside. There, hanging from the chain, was a medallion of a silver dog over a navy crescent moon. Kagome stared at the pendant for a long moment. Her teeth clenched slightly and her hand trembled with anger as she reached out, encircling the pendant with her fingers. Its cold metal bit into her palm as if it were alive. 

"He's closer than we thought," Sota sneered at seeing the crest. Kagome nodded. "Much closer." She dropped the medallion to the man's chest. Her blue eyes lifted slowly to meet his gaze. "Bring me the truth powder, Sota," Kagome said. She watched recognition wash over the prisoner's face, followed closely by fear and disbelief. 

"The Herald of Death ," he gasped. "He will tell us where the Western army is camped. I will have the Prince of Demons before tomorrow's dawn.


	4. Chapter 3

Sesshomaru jolted awake, every nerve in his body tingling. Something was dreadfully wrong. He sat up, trying to pierce the darkness with his eyes, his ears ringing with the effort to hear more than just silence. After a long moment, his eyes adjusted, but still he heard nothing.

He tried to relax, raking his hands through his Silver hair, but with every passing moment a feeling of impending disaster grew inside him, eating away at his nerves. It had been one day since his advance guard had missed their scheduled rendezvous. It had also been one day since Sesshomaru had noticed tightness knotting his stomach.

Sesshomaru swung his legs from his bed of straw and stood. He began to pace, hoping to end the unease that was settling over him. But his mind dwelled on the war…and the cause of his troubles. The Herald of Death had proved to be a tricky opponent. The Eastern Army had repeatedly tracked his steps and retaken Western towns that Sesshomaru had won in the name of King Tashio.

The Herald was a worthy adversary, and Sesshomaru had learned to respect him. Then, yesterday, amid his growing anxiety, word had reached him of a new rumor about the knight, the most disturbing yet. The Herald of Death was said to be a woman.

Quickly, Sesshomaru grabbed a pair of White Hakama and pulled them on. He donned his black leather boots before flinging aside the flap of his tent to gaze upon the starry night.

What if the Herald of Death was a woman? That would explain the irrational, unpredictable, and, to Sesshomaru, totally maddening way in which the Eastern Army moved. But no woman was that brutal. No woman was intelligent enough to command an army. And certainly, no woman could wield a sword with enough strength to disarm a man, much less unhorse him at Tournament – as legend told of the Herald of Death.

A movement caught his eye and Sesshomaru turned his head to see a small, familiar shadow walking through his camp. "Rin," Sesshomaru called.

The shadow stopped and turned toward him. The moon paused for a moment to reflect in the girl's eyes before it disappeared behind a cloud. Again, Sesshomaru had a momentary pang of guilt. Rin was so small, so young, to be here. He should have left her back in The West. But as quickly as it had surfaced, the doubt was gone. Rin belonged here, with him.

As the girl approached, Sesshomaru asked, "What are you doing up at this time of night?" Rin gazed up at him through a lock of rebellious black hair that refused to be swept aside. "I can't sleep," she replied. "You either?" Sesshomaru mused, his gaze shifting to the horizon, a row of hills just beyond the camp. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see something that wasn't there. It bothered him that Rin couldn't sleep, more than he was willing to admit. He and Rin were of the same blood. They had a sense of self-preservation that transcended any rational thought. Survival was instinct to them.

Memories washed over him as he stared at the hills. Bad memories. His father was once sick, very sick. He could barely stand when the heavy plate mail was positioned over his shoulders. Once they had to have two knights ride next to him so that he would not fall from his saddle. He could barely stay atop his horse during a melee. He was the first to fall in every tournament, in every joust. The people began to call him "Lord Yield", and the nobility quickly picked up the phrase.

The sickness lasted most of Sesshomaru's youth. He was five years old when his father began to lose jousts, six when the other children began to tease him. He had received a black eye more than once, fighting to protect his father's name…his name.

Knights in his father's service began to leave and his father had to replace them with mercenaries. He hired a group called the Wolf Demons, who wore thick animal skins and never bathed. Their hair, beards, and mustaches were matted and unkempt. At dinner, they paced the floor, waiting anxiously for their turn at the roasting boar. After his father had taken his meat and returned to his seat, they attacked the spit with the savageness of wild animals. After they had snatched handfuls of meat, they retreated to corners around the room to eat in darkness, away from those they thought would try to take their food. Often times, Sesshomaru wondered why his father kept them on, why he actually paid to have them in his house.

Then, one day, Sesshomaru was wandering the fields, watching the few remaining knights practice their skills. He was nine years old and he had an urge to fight that was very strong. His father had never asked if he wanted to learn. So instead, Sesshomaru would watch the knights practice and try to emulate their movements in the privacy of his room. On that day, three knights were out on the practicing field, two arcing their swords at each other, the third watching, shouting advice from the wooden fence surrounding the field. The Wolf Pack approached from the forest. They almost always traveled in groups, and this time was no exception. There were five men coming toward the practice yard. As they entered the field, Sesshomaru wondered if the knights would put these savages in their place.

The knights told them they were not allowed on the field. The Wolf Demons had looked amongst themselves, one to the other, until one man stepped forward. His hair was black, his face scarred from his cheek down to his neck and farther, the rest of the scar hidden beneath the wolf skin he wore over a torn tunic. His boots were ripped near the heel with what looked like a knife cut. He was shorter than the knight, but built like a stone wall. "We go where we please," he said in a gruff voice. "Is that a challenge?" one of the knights wondered, laughter in his voice. "We do not challenge," the man stated. "People let us be." "Not this time, barbarian," the knight replied and approached with his sword drawn. "I told you that you were not welcome here."

The man slowly brushed aside the wolf skin he was wearing and pulled his sword from his belt. The knight attacked immediately and the man defended himself for a short time. Then, with a howl, he pushed forward. Sesshomaru watched with large eyes as the knight was disarmed in two moves. "I believe it is you who are not welcome here," the man said, the tip of the sword to the knight's neck.

The three knights had fled the yard with as much dignity as they could muster. Two days later, they resigned from his father's service. The following day, Sesshomaru began to follow the Wolf Demons, and more important, the man with the scar, whom he learned was called Koga. He started to copy them, their behavior. Especially Koga's. At mealtime, he waited until his father was seated before running to the feast and grabbing food with his bare hands. He slept in the Great Hall with the Wolf Demons. He followed Koga on his watches. But they never paid him any heed.

Until the day two squires attacked him as he was walking alone one night through the town. They shoved him and called him "son of Lord Yield", and "Puppy". When Sesshomaru threw the first punch, they jumped on him. He tried to defend himself, but he was clumsy and young, and the squires were two years older. They left him with a bloody nose, a swollen lip, and more aches than he could count. He got to his knees shakily, wiping a sleeve across his bleeding nose…and saw them. Not far down the street, three men of the Wolf Demons stood watching him. Slowly, they turned their backs and walked away. Sesshomaru was too embarrassed to follow them that night. And it wasn't until the next morning that he realized they were watching him.

He had awakened with sore muscles and a grumbling stomach. He stumbled to his feet and was making his way down the hallway of his father's castle when a voice called, "Child!" Sesshomaru came to a halt and turned to find Koga standing half in the shadows of the stairway. "You have been following me." Sesshomaru did not move. He wanted to flee, but his legs would not obey. "I will help you, child." Sesshomaru's eyes lit up. "You'll teach me to fight?" "Oh, I will teach you much more than that."

During the next months, Koga taught him to track and to hunt, but most importantly, he taught him how to fight. Day and night, Sesshomaru had to stay alert, waiting for Koga's attack, anticipating his next strike. His innate sense of survival was honed to razor sharpness.

One evening, when Sesshomaru was twelve, he was sitting near Koga before the fire in the Great Hall when Koga seized his arm and cut it. More from shock than from the pain of it, Sesshomaru pulled away, and watched with heart pounding as Koga ran the blade across his own arm. He grabbed Sesshomaru's arm and pressed his open wound to Sesshomaru's, their blood merging as their cuts touched.

"Always remember, you are one of us," said Koga, and withdrew his hand.

The next day, Sesshomaru had raced down the stone stairway and into the Great Hall…only to find that the Wolf Demons had gone. He was bitter and angry. He did not understand why they had left, but even more importantly, why they had not taken him. When his father tried to comfort him, Sesshomaru rejected him. It was later that day when Sesshomaru had his last confrontation with the boys of the castle.

It was damp and cloudy, and Sesshomaru could still recall the strong scent of leather from the blacksmith's shop. He had been carrying his father's sword back from the yard, thinking about a conversation he had just heard between his father and their steward, who was afraid the mercenaries would turn against them and try to take over the castle. Lost in these bitter thoughts, Sesshomaru turned a corner and collided with three squires. He attempted to move past them, but they blocked his way, taunting him. The anger that surged inside him was swift and consuming. He threw down his father's sword and attacked the closest boy. They rolled across the ground, through the dirt and mud, furiously throwing punches. Then, the other two joined in. Sesshomaru didn't remember much, except for the fact that when it was over, he stood with his fists clenched at his side while the three squires ran away from him.

Sesshomaru had not lost a battle since then. Koga and his Wolf Pack had taught him well. Yet now, that old feeling of anxiety snaked through him. He looked down at Rin, who was quietly standing at his side, gazing off into the distance, as she had seen Sesshomaru do. He knelt beside the girl and put his hand on her shoulder, turning her until those blue eyes gazed at him. "In case of attack, remember what I told you."

Rin nodded enthusiastically. "Fight with honor." "No." Sesshomaru scowled. "You must go to the rear of the army and await the outcome." "I want to fight," Rin said, her lips drawing down into a disapproving frown. "I want to cut down one of those Easternmen." Sesshomaru's lips twitched with a proud smile, but the thought of Rin hurt was sobering. "This is not a game, Rin. This is war. Those men will kill you. You're too small yet to battle an armored man." "But I've been practicing," Rin objected wholeheartedly. "I know. And you've improved. But not enough to stand against a man twice your size," Sesshomaru patiently explained. "Promise me, Rin. You must go to the rear of the army." Rin sighed in disappointment and kicked at the dirt. Sesshomaru squeezed her shoulder gently. "Promise me, girl," he persisted. Rin nodded grudgingly. "I promise."

Sesshomaru stared at the crestfallen look on her face. It broke his heart to have to refuse the child, but he was not willing to risk the girl's life in a battle. He reached up and brushed aside the lock of black hair that fell over her eyes. "Try to rest, Rin," Sesshomaru advised. "If we are right, it will not be long until we see battle." Rin scurried away.

Sesshomaru stepped back into the tent, allowing the flap to swoosh back into place as he turned to the basin of water on a stand near his bed. He braced himself over the table, hands on either side of the basin, and stared blankly into the dark water. What had happened to his advance guard?

"Hell," Sesshomaru growled and plunged both hands into the water, cupping them to collect a pool to shower over his face. The water was cool against his hot skin.

He splashed another palm of water onto his face, the water trickling from his chin down into the basin. Sighing, he rubbed the water from his eyes. There's only an hour before dawn, he thought. There's no point in trying to get any sleep.

A single candle rested next to the basin, its shimmering image reflecting in the still water. As Sesshomaru watched, the image shifted, moving slightly. Slowly, the water began to ripple, distorting the figure of the candle. The ripples became stronger and more pronounced. And then he heard it, a thundering rumble in the distance, growing louder with each passing second. Sesshomaru bolted upright. Horses! Coming in fast!

He pulled his sword from its scabbard, the silver metal hissing as the night air kissed its surface. Scowling deeply, he urgently wrenched the flap of his tent aside and charged out into the night. Sharp black hooves thundered down upon him! He leapt back instantly, dropping and rolling. The riderless horse spat flecks of foam from its mouth as it whinnied and sped by.

Battle cries resounded throughout the camp. God's blood, he thought. We're under attack! Someone screamed, the man's cry piercing the air with sharp gasps of pain. Sesshomaru moved toward the voice, crouching low, his hand clutching the hilt of his sword tightly. He turned right, moving around a tent, and saw an invader slumped over a barrel. Sesshomaru smiled grimly as he saw Jaken Kappa wipe his sword on the dead man's tunic. Jaken was his second in command, the closest thing to a friend he had found during the last few years spent waging King Tashio's war.

Jaken looked up to see Sesshomaru approaching. "What the hell happened to our sentries?" Sesshomaru yelled out to him, the din surrounding them threatening to drown out his words. "I don't know!" Jaken shouted back. "Who are they?" Jaken reached down to the invader's corpse and ripped off a piece of cloth from his tunic. He held it out to his lord.

Sesshomaru took the cloth and glanced down at it. His lips curled into a tight sneer, his eyes growing cold, as he clenched his fingers, crushing the fabric tightly in his closed fist. He recognized the symbol immediately, the silhouette of a black Priestess holding a ready bow and arrow against a white background.

The mark of the Herald of Death

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(Hey everyone. Thank you for the rewiews. They encourage me to continue. I wasnt sure if this would go past this chapter but its taken on a life of its own. Many thanks to my adopted mom. I wouldn't have had the courage to do this without her support. And Thank you to all my readers and reviewers. Please keep sending your feedback.


	5. Chapter 4

Kagome finished her battle with an Westernman, cleanly slicing his sword arm, and raised her eyes to assess the situation. Her fully armored knights exchanged blows with men who were partially clothed. Many of the Westerners had already fallen, and her men were closing in on the rest. The battle was almost over. The gritty taste of smoke filled her mouth and the crackle of fire could be heard as one of the tents burned brightly.

She scanned the battlefield. Only a few tents remained standing and only a few Westernmen held their ground and refused to turn and run. Amid the armored men and flashing swords that remained, she saw a man who stood out from the rest by his height. His silver hair defiantly reflected the firelight as easily as his quick sword deflected the blows of her men. He downed one, then another of her knights as she watched. Angry, Kagome moved to spur her white warhorse forward, but a thick cloud of smoke suddenly obstructed her vision. She furiously swatted aside the shield of smoke, but when it blew past and was gone, so was he. Kagome quickly looked left and right for the man, but he was nowhere to be seen.

She dismounted and surveyed the grim scene before her. The sun hesitantly peeked over the horizon, as if afraid to illuminate the death and destruction covering the battlefield. Most of the tents had been trampled and men lay sprawled, dead or dying, everywhere. She shifted her gaze to watch the last of the Westerners flee. Sota jerked his horse forward, eager to pursue them, but Kagome seized his reins and shook her head. Let them go. They would serve her purpose, she knew, to spread the word of her victory. And of the Prince of Demon's defeat.

"Find the Prince of Demons!" Kagome ordered. She was sure he was here somewhere. He would never run. He was either dead or unconscious. And she hoped he was not dead. She wanted to see him. He was said to have cold gold eyes, and silver hair that hid the horns of a demon; he had been raised by wolves, and his arm had the strength to cut down five men with one good swing of his sword. Kagome chuckled. He was probably a skinny man, nothing like his legend. But Kagome preferred to paint her hated enemy in the first, darker light. It added to his mystery, his legend, which claimed that he could steal a woman's heart with one glance, a look heated from the very depths of hell.

Again her eyes surveyed the carnage around her. I have truly earned my reputation this day, Kagome thought grimly. She walked out into what was left of the Western camp, around smoldering tents, past impaled men. She stepped over a fallen knight, blood oozing from the fatal wound in his chest, his plate armor having fallen away to reveal the chain metal beneath. She paused, hating herself as she did it, knowing that the longer she stared at the man, the more human he would become to her.

Kagome gazed into his open eyes and wondered, as she had done a thousand times before, if he had a family. Who would mourn him now that he was gone? A wife? Children? Oh, she hated herself. Why did she torment herself? This would not be the last man she would order killed, nor the last time she would wander among the dead and gaze at their faces, wondering. What was it like to be loved? To be sent to battle with a kiss?

His hand twitched and Kagome stepped closer. His lids closed and a groan escaped his lips. Kagome knelt beside her enemy, concern etched in her brow. Perhaps he would, after all, return to those who loved him. She pushed back her chain mail hood and looked for something to staunch the flow of blood. Her eyes fastened on a tunic, trampled in the dust. Kagome seized it and immediately pressed it to his wound through the chain mail.

His eyes flashed open, eyes filled with fevered pain. They locked on her and for a moment there was blankness. "Rest," Kagome said in Western. "The battle is over." His gaze focused on her and confusion washed over his dust-covered features. Then Kagome watched in dismay as his lip curled in contempt. "Are you the Herald of Death?" he sneered. Kagome ignored him, pressing the shirt against his open wound, trying to move his armor aside. "You will need a leech or you will not survive." She lifted her eyes to his and saw such hate and loathing there that she was taken aback. "I would rather die than have your foul hands touch me," he said and spat in her face.

Stunned, Kagome sat back on her heels. She had tried to help him! To save his life so he could return to his loved ones. But he'd spurned her efforts. Anger swiftly replaced her amazement. Her mouth closed and her eyes narrowed. Slowly she stood, towering over him. The wind picked up, whipping her cape out behind her, dust swirling about her feet. It was her turn to loathe him. Her eyes dulled with bitter hatred and she lifted her arm to wipe the spittle from her cheek. The lashing of the wind's fury suddenly died, and for a moment everything was still as Kagome gazed down at the man. "Then you shall die," she said, and whirled away.

"Kagome!" She turned, outrage boiling in her veins. "What?" she snapped. Sota tore off his helmet in excitement, his blue eyes glittering. Kagome knew the look. She had seen that confidence many times before. It meant only one thing. Success. Her anger washed away and excitement filled her veins. They had him! He was in her camp…her prisoner! The Prince of Demons was hers.

Sota said, "I will bring him to the tent for the truth powder."

Kagome nodded. Then, as Sota turned to leave, her hand shot out to capture his arm. When he glanced at her, she jerked her head at the fallen English knight. "And order a leech for that cur"

* * *

The cloud of white parted slowly before Kagome as she stepped through the soft, whirling smoke created by the smoldering candles placed around the tent. Quivers of anticipation rippled through her as she saw the wisps swirl around the shadowy shape. She stopped, not wanting the thrill to dissipate from her veins. So often in the past did a man not live up to her expectations that she was afraid she would be sorely disappointed by him, the mightiest of legends. But his shadow beckoned to her and she pushed any doubts aside. She had to know his secrets.

Kagome continued to move through the frosty smoke, the dark blur of his body forming into a solid shape. He had fought to the end, she thought, just as I would have. Sota said it had taken twenty men to bring him to his knees. Twenty men? She wanted to believe this, but surely Sota must have been exaggerating. Yet it wasn't like him to inflate the truth. She moved toward the figure chained to a post in the tent, stepping out of the mists.

His head was hanging down, his long silver mane draping over his chest. So he did have starlight for hair! Was it truly hiding horns?

Kagome moved closer, slowly, her gaze appraising him, his body. He was no disappointment there. The urge to touch him was overwhelming. She stretched her fingers toward him and touched the hair on his naked chest, running her hands along his torso, marveling at the size of his muscles. They were hard, sculptured curves of warm flesh. Magnificent, she thought. The smell of him, the heady musky scent of him, enveloped her.

Her prisoner stirred, his head moving slightly from side to side, as if he were struggling to clear his mind. His head slowly lifted. A thrill of anticipation touched Kagome's spine as his pale eyes, the eyes of frozen gold, rose like the sun to gleam at her. "Enjoying yourself?" he asked, his voice low, suggestive.

Through the darkness he wore like a veil, she saw the flash of his white teeth. Kagome pulled her hands away and watched the shadows slide off his features as his face slowly came into the flame's light. A shiver snaked its way up her spine. The candlelight revealed a sensual mouth with a cynical twist to it, a Spartan chin hewn from an ancient line of warriors.

Kagome realized that she had been holding her breath and released it slowly in admiration. She could not believe the sight that greeted her. This is the man who was born without a heart? The man who is in league with the devil? The most feared barbarian in all of The West?

Then how can he be so handsome?

She ignored his comment and stepped back, the mist swirling around her body like a cape. She quickly regained her composure and her blue eyes swept him without a hint of emotion. "So," she murmured, "You are the Prince of Demons."

He stared hard into her eyes as if he were reading her mind. Kagome watched the emotions play over his face: recognition, disbelief, and then furious anger. His eyes widened with incredulity. "The Herald of Death? A woman?" "You have heard the legends -?" "Unchain me this instant!"

Kagome could not help but laugh as he rattled his chains and ordered her around like a serving wench. "I welcome you to my camp." His eyes grew cold, narrowing to razor thin slits. When he spoke, his voice was a thick growl of acrimony. "I don't feel much warmth in your greeting, woman. Perhaps you are truly made of ice, as the stories say."

Kagome felt the heat of his hateful gaze sweep her body. It chilled her blood. "And should I welcome a most deadly enemy with open arms?" she asked softly. Her slim hand flew to her belt in a sudden, swift motion, drawing forth a sharp dagger. "Or with the edge of a blade?" She paused waiting to see the fear flash over his handsome features.

But it never came. Instead, her prisoner laughed.

Fury, immediate and hot, coursed through her body in a churning black cloud of rage. Like a lightning bolt, erupting from a dark haze of anger, her hand shot out and she slapped him. The edge of the dagger caught his cheek, cutting the surface of his skin, and the open cut spewed forth red, glistening blood. She watched the crimson liquid drip down his face and a feeling of horror cooled her flaring temper. She had not meant to hurt him.

The smile never left the Prince of Darkness's face as he cocked his head. "You are indeed brave, my lady. It takes the stoutest of hearts to strike a defenseless man." She recovered with a nervous laugh. "Do you take me for a fool? Shall I release your bonds so you can snap my neck with your bare hands?" He turned his unscathed cheek toward her. "Perhaps you'd like to cut this side."

Kagome stood, appalled. However, his goading made the idea attractive, and she raised the sharp blade to press it against his skin. Her knuckles brushed his cheek and a tremor ran down her spine. She stared for a long moment at his profile, realizing how close she was to him, and that the shiver was neither coldness nor repulsion. She enjoyed touching his skin. Angry with the knowledge and with herself, she narrowed her eyes and gritted her teeth. Her hand trembled as she pulled the blade away. "You'd like it too much."

"Bitch," he snarled. Kagome ignored his outburst. "Tell me how many men your Tashio has in his army." As she expected, the Prince of Demon's witty mouth remained closed to her question. She returned the dagger to its sheath.

"Is he going to attack The East?" she asked, lifting her eyes to meet his, slipping the tips of her fingers into the pouch tied to her belt. The powder felt soft and velvety to her touch. It was a mixture of herbs, roots, and wildflowers all ground together into a fine powder. Sota had gotten the ingredients from an old Gypsy woman he used to frequent when he wanted his fortune told. Kagome had used it well, its strange power adding potent fuel to the spreading fear her legend had ignited in the weak minds of The East's enemies.

"If you really expect me to answer your questions truthfully, then you must be more of a halfwit than legend has it," he replied. Kagome dismissed his insult and leaned closer to him so their lips were almost touching. "You will tell me all your deepest thoughts. Nothing will remain a secret from me." "I think not," he spat.

Kagome, seeing the confusion in his eyes despite his brave words, grinned. She lifted her powdered fingers and ran them seductively over his lips before he could turn his face away. She stepped back as he jerked his head from side to side, spitting out the powder.

Suddenly, his teeth started chattering. Then his entire body twitched! Kagome knew spears of ice, thin and sharp, were speeding through his blood, solidifying, threatening to burst his veins. He struggled to speak, the powder speckling his lips like pixie dust. "I…I…" He stopped as another onslaught of chills racked his body. "I…will…"

"Yes. You will," Kagome said. She frowned, feeling cheated. It had been so easy to subdue the legendary Prince of Darkness. He was no prince, she thought. He was just a man like all the others. She saw him force his teeth to be still and raise his head to glare at her, his eyes ablaze with ebon fire. "I…will…kill you for this," he gritted through clenched teeth.

Kagome's eyes glittered with the challenge. No man had ever needed two doses. But this was the great Prince of Demons. A second dosage ought to bend his will, she thought, as she again touched the powder. The white flecks adhered immediately to her fingers. She raised her hand, but as she neared he turned away and her fingers brushed his cheek, moving across his open wound. Kagome pulled back quickly, staring down at his blood on her fingers. When she looked up she saw the Prince of Demons force back a cry of pain. She knew he was cold. So very cold. His shoulders were hunched against the chill of the powder. Her gaze traveled over his naked chest. She was awed by the size of the corded muscles in his neck and shoulders, the firmness of his chest, the ridges in his flat stomach. His body shuddered, and then he was still.

She stepped closer to him. His eyes were blank, as if his mind had suddenly been emptied. "What is your name?" she asked him, absently rubbing her fingers together. "People call me the Prince of Demons." His voice was flat as he answered. "Your birth name." "Sesshomaru Tashio." "Tell me the number of men in King Tashio's army." "Enough to destroy you completely and mercilessly," he muttered without a hint of emotion, toneless. "I didn't ask for your opinion," Kagome snapped. "I asked for the numbers." "Two thousand archers and five thousand men at arms."

Kagome smiled. This was valuable information. "Tell me of these archers; are they as good as everyone says?" "Yes, they are good, but…" Sesshomaru said, then his voice faltered. "Go on. You must tell me all you know." "The archers…" he muttered, "the archers are ineffectual now. Many bowmen have died. It will take half a year to train more men to replace them." Kagome could barely control the laughter that bubbled in her throat. "Is Tashio planning to attack The East?" "He's only planning on taking back the lands that rightfully belong to The West," Sesshomaru stated blandly. "So he is going to attack! When? Tell me when!" "I don't know," he replied.

For an instant, Kagome thought she saw a flicker of light behind his dark eyes. She frowned. A moment of doubt attacked her reasoning. Is the powder strong enough? Is it working? She wiped her thoughts free of uncertainty. The powder had never failed before. She had no reason to distrust it now. But she was sure that it would not last much longer.

Kagome studied her prisoner. His eyes were deep and unfathomable, mysterious. Strangely, they reminded her of a doga's. But she knew it must be his legend throwing shadows over her thoughts. His silky wild hair gleamed in the light of the candles, giving him the aura of a wild animal. A pang of guilt touched Kagome's heart as she saw that a lock of his silver mane was caught in the moist blood on his cheek. How could I have cut his face? It was so flawless, so perfect…

She reached up to brush the hair from his wound, but her hand froze in mid-air. What am I doing? He's the enemy! He deserves far worse than a simple cut! She whirled away, sickened by the feelings he stirred within her, incensed at her weakness. Anger stabbed at her. How could he make her want to touch him? How could he soften her heart when his words were full of hate? The devil! The rogue! She stood with her back to him for a moment, clenching and unclenching her hands. When she turned back, she was ready to explode, to strike out at him, for making her soft, for making her feel like a helpless woman!

A wind whipped up from outside, blowing the tent flap aside and swirling in around Kagome, flinging her hair wildly about her shoulders and face. The fire in her soul reddened her cheeks, caused her blue eyes to sparkle. His eyes widened and he gasped. Kagome stopped, confused at seeing a wondrous expression on his face. She brushed an annoying lock of hair away from her eyes. "What?" she demanded. "You're beautiful," he whispered.

Shock immediately replaced her anger as she stood dumbfounded, gaping at Sesshomaru. "What did you say?" Sesshomaru looked away from her.

Kagome had clearly heard his words, but her mind was refusing to acknowledge them. 'Beautiful' was not a word men used to describe her. The Herald of Death, Ice Queen, Black-hearted Bitch. These were the phrases men used to portray her.

She was so astonished by his declaration that she was unsure how to proceed. Kagome became flustered by her hesitancy. She was losing valuable seconds. She had to think of a question. A question…

Beautiful. He said I was beautiful. She felt herself softening, looking at him not as an enemy, but as…

No!

* * *

She burst out of the tent into the night air, racing past a group of men rolling dice. In her mind, Sesshomaru's voice softly repeated the words of praise. She ran around a spit of smoking duck as the bird was being basted by the cook, almost knocking the man down. Beautiful. The word was like a plague, spreading through her body, infesting her thoughts. She reached her tent and barely paused long enough to tell the guard who stood like a statue before the flap, "I am not to be disturbed," before disappearing inside.

Kagome stopped just inside her quarters, her eyes sweeping the tent until they came to rest on a wooden chest bound by great bands of silver metal. She remembered what she had been given by her aunt about five year ago, in hopes that she would become more ladylike. Kagome had never used it. She kept it hidden in the chest with her dresses and fancy undergarments, elaborate combs and jewelry, embarrassed by the femaleness of it all.

Kagome flung open the chest. After years of disuse, it squeaked with objection. She fell to her knees and thrust her hands into the mounds of clothes, digging through lacy night clothes, bolts of silk fabric, a necklace of pearls, ruby earrings, jeweled rings…all the items that she had accumulated through the years, rummaging for the one object that she wanted, until finally she found it.

It was a hand mirror made of gold with diamonds set into its intricately sculptured metal. She clasped it with both hands and stared at the person she found looking back at her. She was not the child she remembered from five years ago. Her face was slender and soft, her cheekbones high. Her eyes were the blue of the deepest ocean.

Kagome tilted the mirror, trying to see her profile. She could see nothing that made her attractive, nothing that made her different. Yet he had said she was beautiful. She had never thought of herself like that. No one had ever told her she was. Not ever.

She was inspecting herself when she saw, in the glass, the flap of the tent open and Sota ducking inside. "What did you find out?" Sota asked, excitement barely hidden under his words. Kagome ignored him, staring hard at herself in the mirror, twisting her head to try to see what Sesshomaru had seen. "Kagome?" Sota's brow wrinkled with momentary confusion, then darkened with rage. "Did he hurt you? What did he do? I told you I should have been there with you!"

"Sota," Kagome said, and turned to face him with a trusting look. "Do you think I'm beautiful?" Surprise was written all over his boyish face, and for a moment he could not move. Suddenly, he threw his head back, laughter bubbling from his throat like a spring. Kagome's face turned a deep red, her eyes going from a light blue innocence to the deep blue of an angry sea. Slowly, she replaced the hand mirror and closed the lid on the heavy wooden chest, her jaw clenched.

Sota ceased his laughter when he caught Kagome's murderous glare. He chuckled a bit and looked away from her. "Oh, Kagome. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh at you. It just that…well, if I had even suggested the possibility, you would have cut out my tongue." Her jaw was still set like stone. No one laughed at her. "Please, Kagome," Sota said sincerely. "Forgive me." Kagome whirled away from Sota. "Get out." "What?" He stared at her with surprised eyes. "Get out before I say something I will regret," Kagome clarified.

Sota studied her for a moment, then whirled and departed from her tent. After her brother's footsteps faded away, Kagome chastised herself. You are not beautiful. You are a warrior, a knight. Knights are not beautiful. They are strong, rugged, relentless. I have never been pretty.

Still…in the eyes of the mightiest of legends, the fiercest of English knights, she was beautiful. The truth powder never lied.

* * *

Thanks for reading please leave reviews. They help me continue writing.


	6. Chapter 5

The sun was hot on Sesshomaru's bare shoulders. His arms were bound before him and his feet were tied from ankle to ankle, the rope running beneath the horse he rode. None of this bothered him, even though they had been riding all morning. His mind was absorbed with his captor. He could not stop staring at her riding so primly at the head of the army. Rage consumed him. He could feel the ropes around his wrists digging into his flesh as he clenched and unclenched his hands. The disgrace of being captured by a woman! Even as he thought this, his mind raced, trying to figure out a way to escape. Still, he could not tear his eyes from her.

If the Wolf Demons ever saw him now, how they would laugh! The great Prince of Demons captured by a woman! The thought of those men mocking him made Sesshomaru clench his teeth. Damn, he thought. What was I thinking? Every sense in my body was shouting a warning! But I ignored my instincts. She was so quiet, so deceitful. How did she ever over power my sentries? He gritted his teeth in frustration. Enough of this, Sesshomaru thought. It is over and done. I must not dwell on it. There is nothing to do but wait until an opportunity presents itself. And it will. I will be ready for it.

She brought the army to a halt and dismounted. His eyes followed her every movement as she stopped and spoke with one of her men, a man who towered well over her. How can they allow themselves to be led by a woman, Sesshomaru wondered. He saw her pause and he swore that she glanced at him before disappearing into a small glade.

Suddenly, there was a tugging at the rope around his feet. He glanced down to see two of her men undoing the rope. His gaze assessed them quickly. They were fully armored, except for their helmets. He could outrun them, but he could never outfight them, especially with his hands bound.

He allowed them to pull him from his horse and he fell to the ground with a thud. They hauled him to his feet and shoved him forward. His legs ached from being immobile for so long, and he almost stumbled. He quickly righted himself when he heard a chuckle from one of her men behind him. He briefly wondered where they were taking him, but another shove answered his silent question. They were heading toward the glade. As he walked past the army, he noticed that many heads turned to regard him. There was resentment and anger in their eyes, and Sesshomaru had a moment of satisfaction. They should hate me, he thought. As I hate them.

He was led through a small glade until he saw her standing near a tall tree. He stopped, frozen by the thought that she had summoned him. What does she want of me, he wondered. More torture?

The knights shoved Sesshomaru to the ground at her feet. Dirt and dust filled his mouth, making him gag. He spat it out, easing himself to his knees, rubbing the dirt from his eyes with his bound hands.

The knights behind him placed a rope around his neck and handed the other end to her. For a moment he wondered if he was going to be hanged, but then he saw her tie the end of the rope around the base of a tree. Did she intend to keep him leashed like some sort of pet? When she finished, she ordered the knights away.

Sesshomaru turned to watch them depart, then swung his head back toward her, his eyes scanning the clearing curiously. They were alone.

She was either very brave, or very, very foolish. She had cursed his thoughts from the moment he had seen her stepping from the mists like an priestess coming down out of the clouds. She turned away from him and Sesshomaru felt a surge of frustration – how could he tell what she intended if he could not see her face?

He stood. Taking a large step, he came up behind her, chuckling softly. "You think tying me to this tree will save you, Herald?" He felt her stiffen; her soft hair brushed his knuckles before he touched her cold plate mail. "Save me from what?" she asked with a tremor. "You are my prisoner. Or have you forgotten so soon?"

"It is true my wrists are bound," Sesshomaru murmured, bringing his hands up as fast and unexpectedly as lightning to place them about her neck. "But my hands are far from helpless." Squeeze, he told himself.

She whirled and Sesshomaru could not move. Those eyes, the color of the deepest sea, froze him where he stood. Was this more of her poison? Those lips, full and red as the softest petal of a rose, entranced him.

She moved easily out of his hold. Sesshomaru stood, facing the tree, absolutely stunned. Was this the woman who had captured him? It cannot be! he told himself. God's blood, she was a delectable little morsel. Even now, his passion pounded through him like a roaring flood.

He shook his head. What had come over him? He had his fingers around her neck! He could have ended her life! She must have used more of that poison on him to cloud his judgment. Instead of torturing prisoners like a true knight, she fought with powders and womanly wiles! Coward.

Angry, he turned. She was there. Watching him with those eyes – inviting, yet fearful. She was such a small thing. The fact that she led an army was inconceivable to Sesshomaru. She did capture you, a voice inside him mocked.

She turned away from him and her luxurious hair cascaded over her cheek, well past her shoulder. It shone in the sunlight like the wing of a sleek black bird. A woman! Sesshomaru thought. It could not be. A man had to help her. "Your lovers command your army for you." It was part statement, part question. Furious eyes snapped up to lock with his. "I need no help to command my army."

His brows furrowed. She lies, he told himself. No woman could have captured him without the help of a man. He straightened his shoulders against the feeling deep inside him that she spoke the truth. His eyes narrowed, trying to see the real woman, not the loveliness of her. But even as he squinted, her anger blazed across her brow, tightened her lips, and only enhanced her radiance. He cursed.

Quickly, she bent down to pick up a flask from the ground. "You must be thirsty," she murmured, her voice tight with hidden anger. Sesshomaru did not reply. Was the flask filled with more poison?

She approached him and he couldn't help but notice the slight sway of her hips. She stopped just before him, holding the flask out. He stared at it for a long moment. Then, his eyes shifted up to hers. He saw the grin she wore. She knew. She knew he didn't trust her. She took the flask, uncorked it, and brought it to her lips.

Sesshomaru watched her slender throat work as she drank the liquid. Then she stopped and handed it to him. The thought of his lips touching what had just moments before been pressed so intimately against hers kindled his anger and desire. He could have pulled her to him and kissed her with all the passion and frustration that was pummeling his body. Instead, he grabbed the flask and raised it to his lips, angrily drinking down the wine. The liquid flowed smoothly down his throat, some overflowing from his lips to wash down his neck.

Somehow, as he drank, his anger receded. He had been thirsty. Very thirsty. When he lowered the flask to look at the Herald of Death, he realized that his thirst was quenched, but his hunger was still very much alive. He handed the flask back to her.

She turned her back to him and bent down. Sesshomaru's gaze was fastened on her every move, the way the plate mail fit her tiny figure, the way her delicate hands picked up a loaf of bread. She straightened and turned to him.

He eyed the bread warily. She broke the loaf in half and presented him with one part. Sesshomaru frowned as he took the offered bread. "Have you no one else to attend me?" A smile touched her face, curving her lips, easing the tension and solemnity there. Sesshomaru found his spirit lifting against his will.

"Would you not do the same if I were your prisoner?" she asked. Aye, he thought. I would attend you. But in an entirely different manner. He took a bite of bread. She looked troubled for an instant and shifted her gaze away from him.

He could not clear his mind. All he thought of was the way her white throat worked when she drank the wine. It was ridiculous. He could not believe that she, this small woman, led an entire French army, one that conquered his troops and captured him. Why, most women cowered before him. But not this one. "You are not frightened by me?" Sesshomaru asked.

She straightened and locked eyes with him. "A knight is never frightened." He stepped closer to her and watched with amusement as that little chin rose in challenge. When he was towering over her, looking down into her deep blue eyes, he whispered, "But you are a woman, too." Her eyes crackled with insolence. "I have never known fear."

"Perhaps you should learn," he murmured, and ripped a piece of bread from the loaf with his teeth. A mocking grin curved his lips. "I suppose you have known enough fear that you could teach me," she answered. "I have instilled enough fear that I can teach you." "Teach away," she replied with a slight shrug of her shoulders that sent a lock of her hair tumbling about her breastplate. "You will find that I am a most uncooperative subject."

Sesshomaru caught the lock of hair with his fingertips and raised it, turning it this way and that, inspecting it. He was fascinated that it was so soft. Not at all what he'd expected of a warrior.

"Is that your way?" she asked suddenly. "To intimidate?" Startled, Sesshomaru raised his eyes to hers. "I did not know I was intimidating you." She pushed his hand away from her hair. "You looked as though you were going to eat me up."

His grin was demonic. "The idea is not unappealing." She appeared startled and then furious, her cheeks turning a deep red. It only enhanced her already flushed cheeks and Sesshomaru was somewhat dismayed to find that his passion flared again. Angry with himself, he reminded both the Angel and himself, "Even though you are French."

Her cheeks turned redder. He watched her full lips thin, her blue eyes spark. "And you find French women so unappealing?" she demanded. He shrugged, stating the truth. "Usually." "I've heard to the contrary. You are said to take females in every town, be they French or English…or horse or sheep." He grit his teeth. Her words were truly barbed. If his hands were not tied, she would not speak to so to him, the Prince of Demons. "Untie me," he ordered.

"You treat all women like servants. Well, Lord Tashio, you have much to learn. And I will gladly teach you. For now you are my slave." Sesshomaru's fury was boundless. If only he had another chance. If only he could escape. If only he hadn't underestimated her!

Suddenly, she was before him, grabbing his face with one hand, his chin in her palm, her fingers squeezing into his cheeks, pulling his chin down. Startled, he bent his head and she pressed her lips angrily, roughly, against his open mouth, stealing a kiss. Just as quickly, she shoved his chin away from her. Surprise washed over him like a warm rain. Every nerve in his body was tingling, demanding response. Her chest rose and fell with her heavy breathing, her eyes large with surprise. He stepped toward her. The Herald of Death retreated a step and he watched a cold wall close over her face before she turned her back to him.

Fury crashed down around him. He silently cursed himself for his instant response to the feel of her lips on his, that uncontrollable rush of sheer pleasure that warmed his entire body. Again, he cursed. What was this game she was playing? Was that kiss the start of his lessons? He tightened his jaw. If it was, he had a few surprises in store for her.

"Guard!" she cried out. Sesshomaru stiffened as an armored man came running into the clearing, his eyes fastened accusingly on Sesshomaru. "We ride. Return him to his horse." Sesshomaru opened his mouth to speak, but she was leaving the clearing. He slowly closed his lips and found that he was clenching his teeth. He looked down at his bound hands. The loaf of bread was crumbled into pieces, flaking and falling through his fingers to the ground.


	7. Chapter 6

"We should stop for the night," Sota said from behind Kagome.

Kagome's mind refused to focus on his words. She watched the sun set beneath the horizon, smearing a trail of blood red across the sky. Somewhere inside of her, she knew Sota was right, but she was worried, afraid of the dreams that night would bring…the dreams of hot lips and a dark face with eyes the color of shadow. He would be there in her fantasies, beckoning to her.

Kagome urged her horse forward with a slight kick. Why did I do it? she wondered, staring down at her hands as they clutched the reins so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Why did I kiss him? Was it truly to show him his proper place as my prisoner? Even as she thought this, Kagome knew it was not true. She had wanted to feel his lips against hers from the very first moment she had seen him in the tent.

Even now, she could not concentrate. He filled her mind, dominated her thoughts. She wanted to see him, to touch him. Kagome imagined being held in his strong arms, pictured how tenderly he would gaze at her, and then lower his lips to hers –

She shook her head harshly, driving the thoughts from her mind. He is the enemy! she told herself. Even as she did so, she reined in her horse, allowing Sota to pass her, a scowl clearly creasing his brow. Kohaku was next, his gaze boring into hers with concern. Then, the rest of her knights filed by. They were weary from the long ride that was bringing them ever closer to De Bouriez Castle, and some grumbled as they rode by. Kagome paid them no attention. Her eyes were searching the middle of the column of men where the prisoners were guarded.

She spotted him immediately. His tall form sat straight in the saddle. With the sun behind him, his bare shoulders glowed red. His hands were bound and his ankles were tied beneath the horse, but the guards still gave him a respectful distance.

"You certainly don't look like the Prince of Demons I pictured," Kagome heard one of the guards say as they drew closer to her. "They must give out titles to any beggar off the streets in England," another mocked. "Where are your horns?" "Where is your legendary strength?" "If this is the best England has to offer, then we have nothing to worry about – isn't that true, dog?" "Come on. Show us how strong England is," one of the men goaded.

Sesshomaru's head remained bent, his eyes lidded as if he were resting, but Kagome saw his shoulder muscles bunch and release, noticed the stiff set of his jaw. She knew if he were not bound he would have her men's hearts in his hands.

"He has no strength. Why, my woman could bring him to his knees." "And she'd like it, too," the second guard guffawed. The first guard clubbed the second with a clenched fist. "Do you think he understands us?" the third man wondered. "Maybe he speaks no French." "He understands," Kagome said, guiding her horse up beside Sesshomaru's. "Look at his eyes, see how they burn with hate. All the fires of hell are locked within his body." "And they burn only for you, Angel," Sesshomaru said in English, his dark eyes swiveling toward her.

Kagome felt herself being swept away by the heat of his gaze. Her heart began to pound, and flames of excitement burned up and down her spine, leaving her weak. She could not tear her gaze from his. As the horses moved, their thighs bumped, and even through the chain mail she wore, she could feel the strength in his legs. Kagome felt a tremor race through her body.

"Have you come to torture me with kisses?" he wondered in a husky voice.

Kagome could not take her gaze from his lips as they caressed each word. Remembering their kiss, she felt her own begin to tingle. Finally, Kagome looked away, licking her lips as she did so. Sesshomaru's soft chuckle reached her ears and she straightened her shoulders. "Apparently, your legend precedes you," Kagome stated, quickly changing the subject. Sesshomaru did not answer, and Kagome raised her eyes to his. She saw the frown of confusion that darkened his brow. "Many would meet you. And make you suffer for the sins of your king."

Sesshomaru's jaw tightened. "Sins I would gladly suffer for." Kagome watched him, amazed at the regret she felt constricting her chest. They would throw him in the dungeon or have his head on the executioner's block. Either way, Kagome wished…

She had no right to wish anything where he was concerned! He'd murdered her people. He'd pillaged French towns. He had the most mysterious eyes… Kagome dropped her gaze again. "Perhaps the Herald of Death's heart is not made of ice, as the stories say," Sesshomaru ventured. Kagome steeled herself against the emotions she felt stirring in her heart. "You are mistaken." "Am I?" He chuckled softly.

Kagome glanced at him. It was a mistake; she knew it immediately. He was staring at her, the corners of his lips curved up in a smile. Warm tingles shot up her spine; fire ignited in her lower stomach, warming her. She wanted to touch him. She felt an overwhelming urge to run her fingers through his mane of wild black hair and was shocked to find herself leaning in to do just that. She quickly straightened. She was shaking with the emotions he aroused in her. She had to escape the trembling that raced through her body. It wasn't right! She spurred her horse and returned to where she belonged…the front of her army, wishing she could flee her emotions as easily as she had the Prince of Darkness.

* * *

"You're beautiful," Sesshomaru whispered in her ear, and nuzzled the soft nape of her neck. His strong hands stroked her back with a feathery touch before pulling her into a tight embrace. His warm lips traveled lightly up her neck, across her delicate jaw line, up to her mouth. His kiss was…

* * *

Pretend. Kagome opened her eyes to lonely darkness. Her mattress felt cold beneath her. The sounds of the night drifted into her tent – chirping crickets, faint clanging as men saw to their weapons and armor, murmured words. She paid the familiar noises no attention.

Her mind burned with the memory of the kiss. Guilt was but a shadow in her heart. In the darkness of her own tent she let her mind run free. It ran to Sesshomaru. The Sesshomaru of her fantasies, the man with the gentle touch, the soft words, and the tender smile.

Kagome did not understand what it was about this man that dominated her, why she could not dismiss his body from her mind. She didn't want to think of him, but the thoughts, the images, were so…pleasant.

Suddenly, the tent flap swooshed open and she was pulled out of her reverie. Immediately, Kagome rolled to the side of her sleeping mat, her hand instinctively going for her sword.

"Kagome," a familiar voice called. "Kohaku," she replied, and removed her hand from the hilt of her blade. She sat up as he moved to her bedside. "I sent two men ahead to announce our arrival at De Bouriez Castle," Kohaku informed her. "Yes. Good," Kagome responded, distracted. Her white linen nightdress rustled softly as she pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them. "Father will be pleased to hear of your return."

He stood for a moment beside her mat. Even though she could see a sparkle of light from the chain mail he wore, she could not see his expression. She knew that he was trying to study her and was thankful for the cover of darkness, not wanting to reveal her traitorous thoughts about the prisoner, thoughts that only moments before had been dangerously blissful.

"That's not fair," he said. Kagome lifted confused eyes to him. "Father will be pleased to see you also." Kagome nodded dubiously. "Perhaps. After all, I have brought him the Prince of Darkness." "Father has always been pleased to see you." "He humors me. It is the two of you he sees as real knights." "Kagome," Kohaku's voice was gentle. "All father ever wanted was for you to be happy." "Father wanted me to be like Sango. Every time I return home with this grand army behind me, he asks if I have been to court, or what the current fashions are. As if I know, or care." "Father wants what's best for you."

She snorted. "Father wants me to be a proper lady. He has never seen me as a soldier. I thought that once I became a knight he would regard me the way he does you and Sota. But he hasn't. Not once." "This is why it was so important for you to capture the Prince of Demons, wasn't it? Just like when you had to take Burgh Castle." "This time will be different," she continued, ignoring Kohaku. "Father has to see that I, too, am a knight. I have captured the Prince of Demons." Her voice trailed off as the pride in her accomplishment warred with her disturbing feelings for her prisoner. Kohaku knelt before her. "Kagome?" His voice was concerned.

Kagome did not respond. She could not. There should have been joy at the prospect of bringing the Prince of Darkness to kneel before her father. But suddenly all she felt was apprehension and a sense of impending disaster. She folded her hands nervously in her lap. Kohaku was so still that she couldn't hear his armor rustle as he breathed.

Kagome did not like the feel of his constant, intense gaze. She stood, brushing past him. She put her hands in her hair, running her fingers through her locks, a tormented tigress. "Do you want the truth? Oh, Lord. Sometimes I fear I'm losing my mind! I can't seem to stop thinking about him. I don't know what it is that holds me captive so, but I feel like I'm the prisoner, not him!"

"You needn't worry about your feelings. When we reach De Bouriez Castle, Father will imprison him," Kohaku stated. "No one shall lay a hand on him except for me," Kagome said, determination furrowing her brow. Just as quickly as the words were out, surprise raced through her. It had been second nature to protect Sesshomaru! "Then do it," Kohaku said. Kagome turned to him, scowling in confusion. She paused for a moment, trying to see his face through the darkness, but could not. "I-I don't understand. Do what?" "Take him as your lover." "What?" Kagome exploded. "He is our enemy!" "He is a man." "I would not think of betraying our country by lying with the Prince of Darkness!" "One night of passion does not constitute betrayal." "I will not do that!" Kohaku stood, his form towering over her like that of some ancient god giving judgment. "Get him out of your mind. He is fogging your ability to judge."

To lie with the Prince of Darkness…the thought horrified her. Yet, there was a tightening of her stomach, a tingle of excitement, as she thought of his lips on hers, his hands touching her bare skin. Kohaku's words sent ripples of turmoil rolling through her body like a rock shattering the tranquility of a still pond. "I only give you the same advice I would any other warrior," Kohaku said. "If we come up against the English, I am afraid in your present state of mind you would be a poor leader as well as an easy target." Kohaku turned and started for the exit.

"Kohaku," Kagome called softly. "The men take women prisoners so easily?" Kohaku smiled. "Not under your command, but in other armies, yes. Your men take willing townswomen. It usually serves the same purpose." "And you think Sesshomaru will be willing?" she wondered, trying to suppress the shiver of excitement that raked her body. "I have never known a man to turn away a woman." "You give this advice to all the men?" "Yes." "What advice would you give your sister?" she asked. He gave a short chuckle that surprised Kagome. "I advised her to stay home five years ago," he said, and turned. "I will bring him to you." "No, wait!" Kagome called, but he was gone. She whirled away from the tent opening and paced nervously. He won't bring Sesshomaru. How dare he tease me? I should take Sesshomaru as my lover just to spite him.

She continued to pace, waiting. Her stomach knotted, her knees shook. Kagome hugged her elbows, trying to shield herself from the cold. When the long minutes crawled past and Kohakuw didn't return, she moved to her sleeping mat and sat down. Kohaku wasn't going to bring him, she realized with an odd twinge of disappointment. He would not have his sister violated. But to a warrior it was not violation. It would be used to ease a need.

Why was it so much easier for a man? Kagome waited a few minutes more, and when no one approached her tent, she lay down. An inexplicable feeling of emptiness filled her as she closed her eyes. He was not coming.


	8. Chapter 7

You might be offended at this chapter. If you have anything you want to ask I will be glad to answer ant questions. On With the Show!

* * *

The sound of light footsteps woke Kagome. She sat up to face the intruder and knew instantly who the shadow in the dark was. She leaned over a small table to light a candle, then turned her gaze again to him. The flickering candlelight ran over his muscles like liquid moonlight . He was so powerful, so roguishly handsome. Ropes bound his wrists together tightly behind his back, but he barely seemed to notice as his dark eyes locked on her. "You requested my presence?" Sesshomaru asked coldly.

Kagome swung her legs out from under the covers and stood. She knew it was wrong to have these feelings for him. Still, she could not help taking a step toward him. His gaze boldly traveled the length of her body. The light from the candle made her nightdress virtually transparent, allowing him to absorb every curve. She watched as his breath became shallow.

She took another step, and another, until she was directly in front of him. How she wanted him to touch her! The ghost of a smile crossed her lips at the irony. She had finally found a man she wanted to touch her – and he was the enemy. As she looked up into his black eyes, she saw his frown of confusion and irritation. She wanted to comfort and reassure him. Kagome reached out a hand, meaning to stroke the wound on his cheek, but Sesshomaru flinched at her touch and drew back. "I won't hurt you," she whispered, realizing the absurdity of the statement as soon as it had left her lips. The scar that would form on his cheek would be permanent proof of her harm. She withdrew her hand and took a step away from him.

"What do you want from me? Why did you summon me here?" Sesshomaru inquired. She looked away from him and stepped back toward her sleeping mat. "You are a handsome man." He eyed her suspiciously. "Am I here to discuss my looks?"

Perhaps it was ridiculous, Kagome thought. Men never seemed to have a problem with taking what, or who, they wanted. Maybe I'm making this more complicated than it should be. She raised herself up, straightening her shoulders. She boldly took a step toward him. "In a way, yes," she answered. She watched the frown etch its way into his brow. I am not afraid, she told herself, and approached until she stood before him. He is my prisoner.

"I will tell you nothing," he snarled. "Even if you give me more of your poison." "I do not want to know anything else." Kagome raised a hand to his arm, marveling at the strength and elegance of his muscles. He clenched his fist and the muscles bunched as she touched them. The explosive power that moved beneath her fingertips amazed her. With her heart pounding, Kagome traced her fingers across his upper arm to his chest.

"What do you think you're doing, woman?" he demanded. "Your presence has been a… distraction to me. I sought to cure it." She looked up and saw those dark eyes hovering over her. His black hair washed over his mighty shoulders. She raised a hand to touch his thick mane. Sesshomaru pulled back instantly, gazing at her fingertips out of the corner of his eye, searching for the white powder. Kagome wrapped her fingers tightly in his hair, leaning into his strong chest. "Do you fear my touch?" she wondered in a soft whisper.

Sesshomaru's black eyes scanned her face, but Kagome could not read his thoughts. His dark look lowered over her neck and down to where her chest pressed tightly against his. She shuddered slightly as if he had touched her there. Then his eyes rose back to hers. "Loathe is more like it." She could felt the lie through his leggings and smiled. "Your body betrays you." "Step away from me, witch," he snarled.

Kagome never took commands well. Especially from one of her prisoners. She stood on the tips of her toes and pressed her lips against his. At first, they were unmovable, like a rock wall, but suddenly they parted and the hot passion he was trying to hide was released. His tongue slipped into her mouth, warring with hers. His face pressed hard and demanding against her own. Then, with a groan, he ripped his head to the side, away from her lips.

"Do not forget who is the prisoner here," she purred. She couldn't resist the urge to run her hands over his broad chest. He was like a sculpture carved from pure marble. There was not a flaw. As if molding the marble with her own hands, they followed the curve of his torso down to his leggings. She ran her hands along his clothing. Is the part covered by his leggings as perfect as the part that is bare? she wondered. She wanted to see the rest of him, to touch him and marvel at the exquisite details of his rippling muscles. But she couldn't. She drew her hands away.

"Afraid?" he taunted. The dare was enough. Her hands moved to his leggings and untied them. Suddenly she stopped, stepping away from him. She was trembling all over and she knew it wasn't from anger. She raised her eyes to his, searching for something – guidance, anything! Sesshomaru took a step and he was touching her again. His gold eyes burned into hers. "Untie me," he whispered. As if under his spell, she obeyed, pressing herself against his chest, reaching around him to undo the ropes that bound his hands. They fell away, landing in a pile on the floor.

Kagome saw the change instantly. His shoulders straightened in confidence; his eyes sparkled with lust. One hand snaked to the back of her neck, the other to her waist, and he pulled her close to him, slamming her hips into his. Kagome's breath caught in her throat as his hot breath feathered her cheek. "Is this the cure you were looking for?" he asked in a deep voice.

Kagome felt herself respond to the feel of his hard, muscular body pressed so intimately against her own. Yet the pure animal rage she saw in his eyes paralyzed her. She swore she could see fire in them as his gaze lowered to her chest. Kagome drew in a sharp breath and her breasts pressed against the fabric. She lifted a shaking hand to place it on his broad, naked chest. A fire seared through her lower stomach as he pressed his hips closer to hers, and she trembled. She lifted her head to his, parting her full lips, inviting a deep, languorous kiss.

Sesshomaru stared at her moist lips and moved toward them, then stopped sharply and pulled back, his lips curling into a feral snarl. He placed his hand against her throat again and Kagome felt it tremble. His thumb caressed the side of her neck. She saw his hard look soften, saw a warmth so heartfelt wash over his face that she wanted to throw her arms around his neck. Then, without warning, his jaw clenched and the angry look returned to his eyes. He grabbed the neckline of her nightdress and yanked down sharply. The fabric split easily with a loud rip and he tore it away from her, tossing it to the floor.

Shocked, Kagome tried to pull away from him, but his grip was firm and unrelenting. She saw some kind of satisfaction on his face and knew that she had mistaken the vengeance in his eyes for desire. Sesshomaru's gaze swept her body and he cupped one of her breasts in his hand and squeezed it. The flesh was firm, the nipple erect and rigid. He pulled her closer to him, his other hand still at the small of her back, and put his lips to her breast. He sucked on her flesh with an urgent hunger, pulling on her nipple with his teeth. Kagome arched toward him, sharp stabs of pleasure shooting down to her stomach, adding fuel to the already blazing fire. She felt sensations that she had never felt before, and she wanted to feel more. She wanted him to stop the aching she felt. She knew that he would gently whisper her name before the night was through. She wrapped her arms around his head, pulling him closer, burying her face into his dark hair. "Sesshomaru," she murmured.

Sesshomaru let his one hand roam lower, cupping the cheek of her buttocks. She groaned and he dipped his fingers even lower and touched the folds of her womanhood. Gently, he bit down on her nipple as he thrust a finger inside her. Spirals of ecstasy swirled through her mind and she moved her hips to the temp of his hand. Never had she dreamt of such pleasure! Sesshomaru grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, exposing her bare neck. How easy it would be to sink his teeth into the white, creamy flesh and shake her until she was still. He pressed his lips firmly onto her skin, nibbling at her throat. Kagome was lost in a world that focused on Sesshomaru. His fingers expertly sent waves of ecstasy crashing through her. He eased her down to the carpeted ground and knelt between her legs.

Kagome couldn't help thinking of him as a stalking wolf as he crawled over her. She felt something brush her thigh and looked down. The mere size of his manhood shocked her – surely he would split her in two! – and suddenly she felt her nerve failing her. She tried to back away from his advance. "This will cure any of your ills, Angel," Sesshomaru said bitterly. He put his full weight on top of her, pinning her down. His manhood throbbed with an aching lust. He reached down to his groin and gripped his member, guiding it toward her. Kagome squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for the worst, and steeled her body against the blow.

"Open your eyes," he said. They remained closed. "Look at me!" Hesitant, Kagome opened her eyes and saw only the infinite blackness of his loathing. He thrust his stiffness into her. Only years of self-discipline prevented her from crying out in agony. She gripped his shoulders tightly, hoping that this was all there was to 'taking' someone, hoping he would not move. Sesshomaru began to thrust, his body rocking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

She held her body rigid against his assault. With each impalement, more of her fantasy crumbled to dust. The pain brought tears to her eyes, but she would never shed them. She put the knuckles of one hand into her mouth to keep from crying out. The other hand pushed weakly against his chest. It could not be like this.

Kagome felt his body stiffen and heard him groan. Finally, he lay still on top of her. She felt relief course through her body and relaxed for the first time since he'd entered her. She stroked his shoulder gently, kindly, wanting the same from him. It had been so brutal! If only he would whisper a tender word…if only he would say her name, then she could overlook his roughness. He shrugged off her hand and put his face close to her ear. She knew he would say it now, knew he would whisper her name softly to her. "Slut," he said scornfully.

The last remnant of her fantasy shattered into nothingness and she was left barren, shocked, and hurt. She turned to face him, totally vulnerable for the first time in her life. She looked into his eyes hoping to find some sympathy or explanation. Disdain filled his expression as he saw her expectations so clearly written on her face. He pushed himself up, tying his hose as he rose. She grabbed the fur from the bed to cover her nakedness and watched him leave. Quickly, so she would not see any more of him, she blew out the candle to hide alone in the darkness.


	9. Chapter 8

"Damn," Sesshomaru muttered as he shoved aside the tent flap with all the anger coursing through his body. I could not kill her! he thought. Even as she used me to service her lust like a common dog, I could not bring myself to strangle the life from her body!

The aroma of freshly roasting venison wafted to him on a soft breeze that stirred his hair. He lifted his head slightly and suddenly realized that he was outside – with no guards.

Escape!

The thought barely entered his mind when hands slammed down upon his shoulders and arms like heavy weights, dragging him to his knees. He struggled, but his arms were wrenched behind him and chains slapped upon his wrists and ankles before he could even take another breath.

He silently cursed. The harlot had distracted him again, this time costing him an escape. He was pulled to his feet and shoved forward. Four men led him back to his tent, where he was chained to a stake and left alone.

Sitting on the hard ground, buried deep in the night's blackness, Sesshomaru closed his eyes and struggled to will his anger into submission. There would be a time for revenge, but this would not be it. He exhaled a slow, controlled breath as the thought of what had transpired a few minutes before came churning back to the surface of his mind. He had been nothing but a means with which to service the wench's desire. Fierce anger burned in his chest, tightening his lips. God's blood! he thought. How could she be so cold? He could have planted his seed within her! Did she not care about that?

Perhaps she does not know.

The thought was like a blow, stunning him. No, he thought. It could not be. She was a harlot; the seductive way she stood before the candle in that sheer nightdress was engraved upon his memory, scorched there like a brand. It could not be that she was inexperienced in such things. But as he thought this, his mind replayed the sequence of events that led to their lovemaking. She had seemed tentative about touching him. She had been shy about her nakedness. Bur perhaps this was just a game she played. The way she kissed him, the groans and arches of her soft body, the careless abandon, argued she was experienced at lovemaking.

Still, he had seen fear cross her face at the moment of their coupling. The memory of her body pressed against his caused a stirring in his loins. I could not kill her, he thought again. Not with those brilliant blue eyes staring into my very soul, wearing the look of hot need so naturally. Perhaps I should not have been so rough…

She is French! She used me and I am feeling sorry for her. His lip curled in a grimace and he shifted his position. Slowly, his brow furrowed as he thought of the moment he had taken her. His brows met as he concentrated – had there been a barrier?

He put his hand inside his leggings, feeling the wetness there, the only physical evidence that they had actually been together. He removed his hand and raised it up before his face, studying the stain on his fingertips. His scowl deepened as he wondered what kind of wanton devil his captor was. Why would she have done such a thing? He could think of nothing of value she could have gained from their encounter. Unless this was not the proof he was looking for, but her monthly flux.

The doubt festered in his mind like an annoying gnat. He replayed their encounter in is mind again, as he knew he would do a hundred times in the future. He had to know. Had she been a virgin?

* * *

The next day went slowly, and no matter how hard he tried, there simply was not enough to occupy his mind. Images and sensations that he wanted to forget kept returning. The rebellious chestnut curls that hid the soft, delicate curve of her neck. Her moist, parted lips that hinted of honey, a sweetness that he now wished he had tasted further.

Sesshomaru pounded the ground for the fifth time, deepening the indentation that was already there.

He had to know if she was a virgin. If she was…he had acted like a rutting dog. Had he known, he would never have taken her. No, he thought fiercely. She must be accustomed to taking men. She had many prisoners. Surely, he was not her first. He could not be her first! Why would she have picked her enemy to take her maidenhead?

He had many women, that went without saying. Some married to great lords, some common harlots. But never had he taken a virgin. They were trouble. He had learned that from a friend a long time ago. Years ago, when he had been a squire about to be knighted, his friend Charles Burke had slept with a farmer's virgin daughter. Later, she accused Burke of raping her. Burke had to pay a rich sum…even though the wench had lied.

Sesshomaru avoided virgins like the plague. Even at Dark Castle, where it would have been customary for the lord to sleep with peasant women on their wedding night, he had never exercised his right.

If a married noblewoman stopped at Dark Castle and was interested, he would take her without guilt. Many of the noblewomen wore a night with the Prince of Darkness like a valued jewel for their peers to envy. He gave them what they wanted and then dismissed them from his thoughts.

But he could not do this with his enemy. She had seduced him. She had invited him to her quarters, not knowing whether he would strangle her or not. She stood before him like some daring temptress. She could not be a virgin!

No decent woman had ever matched his lovemaking. Not even Angel. You did not give her the chance, a voice inside him chastised. He pushed the thought aside. They all lay beneath him, pretending to be fearful of the great Prince of Darkness, acting the defenseless maiden. He despised them when he was finished, as he despised his French captor.

Whores sometimes matched his wild lovemaking. He kept two of the best at his castle near Sussex. There was Elli, the blond. He had made her cut her hair short to remind him of the women of the Wolf Demons. She loved to please him. And she did. She also pleased most of his men. But it did not bother him.

And there was Lotte. He loved to wrap his hands in her long black hair and yank on it when he took her from behind like a dog. She had big breasts, the biggest he had ever seen. But she had to eat like a cow to keep them that way. Sesshomaru knew that she never slept with the other men. She thought of herself as his, and when he took Elli, it enraged her. He lost track of how many fights he had witnessed between the two whores.

But the whores had not been virgins when he had taken them. None of his women had ever been. If the Angel…

No, he thought. Why would she choose me? Why not choose one of her men? Surely she could have found a Frenchman to satisfy her. Had she no suitors? Or was it the legend that surrounded him what intrigued her?

Then the thought returned to him from the night before, nearly paralyzing him with apprehension. Have I planted English seed into the belly of a French woman? What have I done? He had been careful with all his women, careful to remove himself so as not to get them with child. But he had been angry with Angel. He had not been thinking. He only wanted to punish her, to show her the strength of England. This was one way to incapacitate the Angel of Death, he thought with sarcasm.

The thought of a French bastard made him cringe. He had never shirked his duty; if she had a child, he would care for it properly. But how could he protect a French child from English ridicule?

These questions were driving him mad! He had to have the answers. He had to see her.

"Guard!" Sesshomaru shouted.

Kagome had gotten little sleep

* * *

the night before, her dreams echoing Sesshomaru's condemnation. She sauntered distractedly through the camp as her mind replayed her actions of the night before. The way she had summoned him to her tent, the way she let him touch her. She had been no better than one of the camp whores. A slut.

The word still stung. It was like putting salt in a wound every time she thought of it. And the wound was deep. He had not been gentle. How could she have mistaken his glances for caring when all they were were stares of hate? He was her enemy, and while she had forgotten, or chosen to overlook it, he had not.

"You're avoiding me."

Kagome looked up to see that Kohaku had joined her. His forehead and dark red tunic were wet with perspiration. His sword hung in its scabbard at his side. "No, I'm not. I've been very busy this morning."

"Preparing to meet Father?"

"Yes," she lied. Kagome had not considered her father once. All her thoughts had been of Sesshomaru.

Kohaku stared hard at her. The seconds grew to minutes and even though she did not meet his gaze, he still watched her.

She bridled under the silent pressure. "Well, not exactly," she finally admitted, her gaze wandering to the ground.

"How did it go last night?" he wondered.

"He came to my tent, as you know."

"And…did you take my advice?"

"Yes."

A long moment of silence passed and Kagome raised her head to stare off at the horizon and the blue sky. She shifted her shoulders so the chain mail rested comfortably.

"Have you gotten him out of your system?" Kohaku asked softly.

"Yes. Absolutely. I never want to see him again," Kagome stated emphatically.

Kohaku sighed with relief. "Then it worked," he said. "Good. Because he's asking to see you."

Kagome's lips tightened into a grimace. What did Sesshomaru want? To take her in his arms and gently kiss her? Kagome chuckled bitterly to herself. Not likely. She raised her chin, her eyes narrowing, and gave Kohaku her answer.


	10. Chapter 9

"What do you mean, she doesn't want to see me?" Sesshomaru demanded, outraged. He had been waiting hours for a response he was sure would be positive. He had half expected Kagome to come herself. "I must see her!"

The guard stood mutely during Sesshomaru's outburst, his dirty chain mail reflecting the lackluster expression on his face. When he finished, the guard spoke evenly. "She doesn't want to see you ."

Sesshomaru seethed with anger and paced back and forth, his manacled feet allowing him only to shuffle along the ground. He turned back to the guard, repeating, "I must see her!"

The guard remained silent, an amused grin on his face.

"Wipe off that smirk, damn you!" Sesshomaru growled.

The guard smiled wider, showing his teeth.

Heathen bastard!

Sesshomaru shot forward, diving, and rammed his head into the guard's chest. The man's chain mail bent beneath the impact as he doubled over. Sesshomaru was dazed for a moment, but as the guard grunted heavily and went down, he hurriedly shuffled for the tent flap and lurched –

\- into the arms of three guards standing outside. They slammed him to the ground, one of them pinning him firmly with a knee to his back.

" Priestess!" Sesshomaru cried out, before a guard clubbed him into unconsciousness.

* * *

Sesshomaru's head pounded. He wished he could rub it, but the manacles that bound his wrists to a stake in the ground would not allow him to reach his head. Did they think he would chew through the metal links? He wanted to laugh, but his head hurt too badly.

She doesn't want to see me, he thought. His lips twisted in a grimace. She was no virgin. How could she be, with an army of men following her? The sight of her smooth buttocks and those spread thighs as she rode her horse would drive any man mad with lust. At least half a dozen men had probably had her by now.

He shook his head in disgust. I should have killed her, he thought.

He sighed, lying down in the dirt. The tent flap was closed, but through the slit of the opening Sesshomaru could see the glimmer of a small campfire from somewhere outside in the dark.

When he had regained consciousness, he'd discovered a tray of bread and cold duck beside him. Even though he had no hunger, he had eaten it to keep up his strength. He had to stay strong for his escape.

Suddenly, his senses came alert. There was movement outside the tent and the soft crunching of footsteps on the dirt…someone who was not armored; the footsteps were too light. Through the slit between the flaps, a shadow moved to block the campfire. The person was short, too short to be a guard, too small to be a knight.

Sesshomaru boosted himself up on his elbow, his brows furrowing. The flap opened and the figure entered the tent, clothed in a ragged brown cotton tunic and black hose ripped at the knee.

Anger and fear fought for control of him, tightening his stomach, thinning his lips. "Rin," he gasped.

The smile slid over the girls's face easily. "I'm here to free you," Rin said, brushing a lock of black hair from his eyes. "I haven't figured out how, but I will."

Sesshomaru reached out to her, but his manacles jangled and yanked his arms short of grabbing the boy. "I want you out of here. Now."

Rin's lips turned down and her small head tilted slightly to the side. "I can't leave you here."

"I told you to go to the rear of the army. Weren't you listening?" Sesshomaru demanded, his anger rising to drown out his fear.

"I did. And then they ran," Rin replied in disgust. There was stubbornness in her large eyes, a determined set to her small jaw.

She won't run. I taught her that, a voice inside Sesshomaru reminded. But he was becoming panicked at the thought of this small girl in the enemy's camp, risking her life to try to free him. "You must leave now," he commanded, angry with himself for not being able to throw her out of the camp.

Rin scowled at Sesshomaru. "I won't leave without you."

Orders never worked with me, Sesshomaru knew, and it would never work with the child. Sesshomaru fought to bring his emotions under control. "Listen to me, Rin," he stated, his jaw tense, "you are just a child. You cannot battle an entire French army alone."

"I have you by my side," Rin said simply.

Sesshomaru raised his hands and the manacles clanked and sparkled in the light from the campfire outside. "I am bound. I am of no help to you."

"I'll free you," Rin insisted.

"Rin!" The anger surged inside Sesshomaru again; he could feel his hands clenching into fists. The girl stepped back fearfully. Sesshomaru forced his rage down, his teeth clenching, and sat back on his heels. "It is dangerous, Rin. Everywhere you turn there will be enemies. And I will be heavily guarded. You cannot free me. You must escape."

"I am not a prisoner," Rin said. "They think I am one of the town girls coming to aid in the battle. The guards let me in here so I can get your tray." She grinned, proud of her accomplishment.

But all Sesshomaru saw was the danger the girl was in. What if the Herald of Death discovered her? What if she used the girl to get more information from him? Could he endure Rin's cries from torture, or would he turn traitor to his country to save the child? If she knew his one weakness was standing defenseless in her camp… He looked at Rin, a scowl creasing his brow. "Rin, you don't know what could happen here. You must trust me when I say you cannot stay."

Rin frowned. "I am not in any danger."

"You are. Far more than you realize. And by your being here, you put me in more danger than I have ever been in before."

Rin's brow furrowed, an imitation of Sesshomaru, and she looked at the ground. "I just didn't want them to hurt you."

Sesshomaru's heart softened immediately. He wanted to help the girl, to tell her that what she was doing would have been right had she been an adult. He wanted to tell her that she would make a fine knight someday and that he was proud that she had attempted to rescue him. But he knew if he did that, Rin would see it as a signal to stay and try to impress him further by freeing him. He had to be stern. "Come here, girl," Sesshomaru commanded.

Rin walked up to him, her eyes full of disappointment.

Sesshomaru gently placed his hands upon the girl's shoulders and looked into her brown eyes. "I can take care of myself. I need you to leave this camp and find King Tashio. You must not stay here."

"But I know I can rescue you. I can free you, Lord," Rin said sincerely.

Sesshomaru's frown deepened. Persistent. She was so damned persistent. Why wouldn't she listen? "No. You can't stay. You won't be able to free me. I want you out of this camp. Now." He had never raised his voice to the girl before, but he had to make her leave. "Go on. Leave me here. I will see you at King Tashio's camp." He released Rin and watched her back up to the tent flap, where she paused. "Go on," Sesshomaru insisted.

Rin swiped at the lock of hair that fell before her eyes and Sesshomaru saw the sparkle of tears before the girl ducked beneath the tent flap and was gone.

"Afraid of the Prince of Demons?"

Sesshomaru sat up straight in the tent, listening to the ridicule in the voices.

"Hey, you didn't get the tray!"

The guards. A protective anger surged inside Sesshomaru. He wanted to rip out their throats for talking to Rin with disrespect.

"Scaredy Neko!" They broke into laughter and Sesshomaru exploded, lunging forward. The girl had more courage than the guards could ever dream of having. His bonds caught him and pulled his arms back. Still, he fought to move forward, out of the tent. The guffaws continued to echo in the night air, enraging him. The chains dug into his flesh, pulled at his arms. He fought against the manacles' biting hold, pulling with every last ounce of strength. The chains held fast. Slowly the sounds of the mockery faded. Sesshomaru tried one last time to lunge forward, pulling with his chest and digging his feet into the ground. The manacles refused to move, holding strong against his every effort. Finally he gave up his fight, letting his arms drop. I am chained and useless, he thought. I cannot even defend Rin. He would never forget this feeling of helplessness. Nor forgive those who had caused it.

* * *

The next morning, one of Kagome's men came for him, ordering him to his feet and out of the tent. The sun was low in the sky, and Sesshomaru knew it was very early. The camp was quiet and still; only an occasional man strolled between the tents.

The guard led him past the camp borders and through a thick row of shrubbery, deep into the forest. Large trees shot up all around him. The early morning sun peeked through the leaves far above their heads, and bushes and weeds peppered their path. Escape raced through Sesshomaru's mind, but the shackles that bound his wrists and ankles, and the sword the man held to his back, prevented any action. The guard urged him through a small line of bushes and they emerged in a large clearing. Sesshomaru stopped.

She was there.

Kagome's forehead was dotted with perspiration, a broadsword not far from her driven into the ground. She wore an oversized green tunic, cuffed at the sleeves and bound around the waist with a large leather belt. White leggings conformed to her shapely legs, and her black leather boots accented her curvy calves. Desire coursed through Sesshomaru and he silently cursed himself for his lack of control. The sunlight glinted off the helmet on the ground near her feet. Her hair was loose and hung wildly over her shoulders.

"Were you a virgin?" he blurted as he drew closer, the question spilling forth from his lips as if his obsessive attention to it had given it a life of its own. He half expected a slap for his blunt question, especially in front of her man, but when none was forthcoming, he presumed that the guard didn't understand western.

But Kagome did. Her eyes narrowed. "You didn't care when you took me."

"I want to know," he said, as calmly as possible.

"It doesn't matter." She turned away from him, looking toward the trees at the other end of the clearing. "I am not one now."

"Priestess," he said softly, an overwhelming desire to take her in his arms sweeping over him as he heard the anguish in her voice. "You brought me to your tent in the middle of the night half clothed. What did you want me to do?"

"You did everything I expected you would," she said bitterly.

"Then you were not a virgin."

"Why is it so important that you know?"

Sesshomaru watched her closely, listened for the change in her voice. "You could tell me this, at least. After all, I did service you quite adequately."

She whirled, fury burning in those sapphire eyes. "Quite adequately? I bled that night! I owe you nothing!"

"All virgins bleed."

Kagome averted her gaze, a slight blush spreading over her cheeks. Sesshomaru had his answer. "God's blood! Why would you pick your enemy to teach you the ways of love? Why not a Frenchman? Why not one of your own?"

She clenched her fists into tiny balls, her jaw tightening. "Unshackle him," she snapped at the guard in Eastern.

The guard took Sesshomaru's arms and slid the chains off his wrists. As he bent to remove the shackles around Sesshomaru's ankles, Sesshomaru rubbed his chafed wrists, trying to force circulation back into them. His dark gaze never wavered from Kagome's. What is she up to? he wondered.

Again, Kagome spoke to the guard. "Give him your sword."

"My lady?" the guard replied, straightening and turning to Kagome.

"Give him your sword!" Kagome shouted.

The guard hesitated only a second before pulling the sword from his sheath and extending it hilt first to Sesshomaru. Sesshomaru glanced down at the sword in the guard's hands, then up at Kagome. He saw that her breath was coming hard.

She yanked her broadsword out of the ground and stepped closer to him.

Sesshomaru's eyebrows shot up in amusement. She wanted to fight him! "I did nothing you didn't want me to." Sesshomaru's gaze swiveled to the guard. He was older and probably experienced in battle, but shorter and heavier than Sesshomaru. He could defeat the guard. And The Priestess was no challenge.

Kagome's words were sweet. "This is lesson number two."

Sesshomaru ached to feel the hilt of the sword in his palm. He knew he could defeat both of them, but he needed to get Angel alone if he hoped to escape. "I'm no fool. Your man would cut me down in an instant if he saw your life was threatened, despite any orders you gave him."

Kagome again spoke to the guard. "Get Kohaku."

"And leave you alone?" he answered.

A grin twitched the corners of Sesshomaru's lips.

"I gave you an order!"

The guard stiffened and turned to leave, the sword in his hand, the shackles slung over his shoulder.

Sesshomaru's hopes faded. His chance was gone. She had already changed her mind about fighting him. Then what did she want with him alone in the forest? To kill him?

"Leave the weapon," Kagome ordered.

The guard turned back to her. He paused to glance down at his sword, then threw it to the ground before running into the forest, disappearing through trees and shrubbery.

Kagome grinned at Sesshomaru, her eyes flashing with challenge. "You have only minutes to overcome me before my army descends on you. Think you can do it?"

"Undoubtedly." Now was his chance. This Priestess was very foolish. But Sesshomaru had to admire her courage. He bent and picked up the sword, a smile on his face. If she chooses to fight me, then so be it. He stared at the blade for a moment, deep in thought about –

-striking at her, which he did without warning, driving his sword forward!

She easily knocked it aside. "If that is the best you can do, this will be a sadly easy defeat."

"I've already put my sword into you once; don't make me do it again."

Kagome's face softened with hurt and Sesshomaru took advantage of her vulnerable moment to attack, bringing his sword in low and up in a dip, the point heading straight toward her stomach.

Suddenly, Kagome's sword came to life and caught his swing. With a twist of her wrist, Sesshomaru's sword spun into the air and then landed on the ground two feet from him. She stood for a moment with her sword tip to his neck.

Shock paralyzed Sesshomaru before he masked it with a forced grin. No one had ever done that before! I have been toying with her, he reassured himself. But he had not anticipated such a lightning-fast defense. She was good. For a woman.

She smirked. "Is that the best you can do?"

"You should be thankful your swordplay is better than your seduction," he retorted.

"Pick it up," she said.

It is time to teach her her place, he thought, and moved for his sword. He picked up the blade and turned to face her again.

She smiled full out. She thrust quite unexpectedly, and when he parried, she brought the blade high and down. They locked swords and she grabbed his wrist.

The feeling of her small hand on his skin sent tingles up his arm. Angry, Sesshomaru tore his wrist free and pushed off.

Kagome swung her blade around to the side.

He expertly blocked it and came back with a blow of his own. "Why so bitter, Priestess? I gave you what you asked for."

Kagome deflected the attack. "Do all men finish so quickly?"

"If you hadn't acted like a bitch in heat, then I might have acted more politely."

"To an enemy? You wanted to hurt me. Just like you want to kill me now."

"Killing you now would be too easy," he said.

"Don't flatter yourself. You're not as good as you think," Kagome answered, and swung the large blade again.

Sesshomaru blocked her strike and counter-thrust. She raised her sword and sparks flew as the metal blades collided. His face was inches from hers, and he stared into her blue eyes. "You are good, Priestess, I will admit that." Her full lips were so close, so inviting. He put his weight against the sword, moving his face closer and closer. She fought valiantly, but vainly. He was stronger than she was and his lips drew nearer to hers. "I get what I want, Priestess. Surrender to me."

"Never," she whispered, her hot breath fanning his lips.

"Kagome!" a voice shouted from the distance.

Sesshomaru pushed himself away from Kagome and turned toward the trees where the voice had come from.

"Put down your weapon," Kagome advised in a hushed tone.

Sesshomaru glanced at her. Was that concern in her voice?

"Kagome!" the call came again, this time closer.

Sesshomaru looked toward the voice, then quickly turned to look the other way. The branches of the trees on the opposite side of the clearing swayed in the breeze as if beckoning to him, but he knew he would never make it. Not with the stiffness in his legs from being confined for so long. An arrow in the back would bring him down before he could hide himself in the woods. He turned to look at Kagome. She watched him with those clear blue eyes, her sword arm relaxed at her side, as if she were waiting for him to make a move. His first impulse was to put his blade to her throat and hold off her men by threatening her life. He took a step toward her and grabbed her wrist. Much to his surprise, she didn't resist. He knew he could take her and she would let him. For an instant, the realization confused him, and he hesitated. Voices echoed in the clearing. By the time he had made up his mind to take her, the trees seemed to magically part and a large group of men burst forth, shouting angry words and brandishing weapons.

Sesshomaru released her arm and quickly dropped the sword. He held up his hands and backed away, but a tall man tackled him to the ground. The other men surrounded him and began pounding on him with their fists, lashing out with their feet. Sesshomaru kicked and heard a satisfying thud as his foot struck Eastern flesh. But there were too many of them. He tried to bury his face protectively in his arms, but a boot caught him in the back of the head and his vision blurred for a moment as pain hammered his skull. Hot agony flared in his stomach as another foot struck him.

Sesshomaru's vision cleared and he looked out through a haze of pain to see the glint of a polished sword poised above his abdomen.


	11. Chapter 10

"Sota!" Kagome screamed, reaching for his raised sword arm.

Kohaku reached him first, catching the downward swing of his forearm with an open palm.

Kagome felt her heart hammering in her chest. Her stark terror at seeing her brother about to butcher Sesshomaru dissipated, immediately replaced by a scorching fury. She had to get Sesshomaru back to camp, away from Sota and her men. Trembling with anger and frustration, Kagome looked down at Sesshomaru. "On your feet," she commanded.

Sesshomaru moved his arms away from his face and looked at her. For only a moment, she read disbelief in those dark eyes. Then, with a groan, he rolled to his stomach and pushed himself to his hands and knees, swaying unsteadily.

Kagome moved toward him, protectiveness surging inside her.

"She said on your feet," Sota snarled and lashed out with his foot, catching Sesshomaru in the ribs, sending him back to the ground.

Kagome whirled on Sota, her fists twined into knots at her side. "Touch him again and I will personally see to it that you are clapped in irons." She turned away from him and knelt beside Sesshomaru.

He was lying on his back, clutching his stomach. Kagome saw the pain in the thinning of his lips and the tension in his neck. Otherwise, his face was void of any kind of emotion. His eyes were closed for a long moment as if he were trying to bring the pain under control. When he opened them, they were blank and unreadable.

Kagome whirled, again seeking out Sota among the men, and shot to her feet to face him. "Are you mad?" she demanded. "You could have killed him!"

Sota's brows crashed together, his jaw clenching. "And he could have killed you."

"I was not in danger," Kagome snapped.

"No danger?" Sota roared, the words firing from his lips like arrows from a bow. "You gave the man a sword! He's a notorious murderer! He's killed thousands of our people! And you gave him a weapon!"

"That was my decision to make. He is my prisoner and I will do with him as I like!"

"Kagome. Sota." Kohaku stepped between them, his body forming a barrier between their rage. "This is not the place, nor the time," he said softly but harshly.

Sota shouldered his way past Kohaku to confront his sister. "I will not allow you to give him a weapon. You endanger yourself as well as every many here."

" You will not allow me?" Kagome roared, her eyes flashing with rage. Sota opened his mouth to speak, but Kagome continued, "I will not allow you to beat him."

"What do you care? He is English! He deserves everything he got."

Her fury knew no bounds. She wanted to grab Sota and shake him until he saw the foolishness of his words. She stood for a long moment absolutely still, knowing that if she moved, or if Sota said a word, she would explode. She looked away from Sota, trying to control her anger. But her eyes came to rest on Sesshomaru as he sat huddled on the ground, an arm about his middle. He was watching her with curiosity and a bit of amusement. "Get him out of here," she murmured.

"You heard her!" Sota shouted. "Move the dog back to his tent."

Her burning eyes snapped to him. "Not him. You ."

Sota stared at her incredulously, but when she glared back at him, he whirled and pushed his way through the gaping men.

Kagome's gaze returned to Sesshomaru.

"I'll have him taken to his tent," Kohaku whispered to her. "You'd best go rest. I'll come by later."

"I want him in my tent until his wounds are mended," Kagome said.

"Kagome –" Kohaku began.

"I feel responsible. If I hadn't given him a sword, none of this would have happened. I just want to make sure he recovers. No prisoner should be treated like this."

Kohaku waved his hand, signaling men to take Sesshomaru. Four men stepped forward and gathered around Sesshomaru. One man reached down, offering Sesshomaru a hand. Sesshomaru shoved the hand away and climbed slowly to his feet, scorning any help.

Kagome felt his gaze on her the entire time. His look burned through her skin into her soul until she turned to lock gazes with her enemy. His eyes were dark and mysterious with a glow that sent tingles up her spine.

Kohaku shoved him forward and they moved toward the camp.

After a moment, Kagome followed them through the bushes. She hugged her elbows, suddenly chilly in the breeze that wound its way through the trees. Why had she allowed this to happen? Why couldn't she stop her men? Had they acted out of concern for her, or was it their hatred for Sesshomaru?

Sesshomaru. She caught a glimpse of his powerful strides through the wall of men that had surrounded him. Her gaze scanned his naked torso, his strong neck, his sturdy back, until she saw the ugly red welt forming on his side, near his ribs. Kagome's brow creased. She was so intent on studying the bruise that she stumbled over a root and almost fell.

Kohaku glanced back at her for a moment as she quickly regained her composure. They had to hurry, she thought, an urgency filling her. They had to get him back to the camp so she could bind his wounds. The tanned, slightly sun burnt, skin of his torso caught her attention again. It was my fault, she thought, a stab of guilt slicing at her heart. I should never have allowed him out of his tent. I should never have called for him.

Then, she straightened her shoulders. No. I refuse to take responsibility for this. It was Sesshomaru who demanded to see me. I should hate him, she thought, her eyes narrowing.

Even as she told herself this, even as she forced her eyes to narrow, the memory of his searing gaze sent waves of heat splashing over her hate.

Finally, they emerged from the trees of the forest and entered into her camp. A breeze blew softly, stirring her hair around her shoulders. As they moved around the tents and smoldering campfires, Kagome's eyes continued to study her prisoner. There were scrapes on his arms, and small red welts covered his stomach. But the bruise forming rapidly near his ribs was what concerned her the most.

As they neared her tent, she quickened her steps to hold aside the tent flap. She watched anxiously as they escorted him inside. As the four guards exited, Kagome saw Kohaku standing in the doorway, holding chains in his hands.

"At least let me chain him, Kagome," he pleaded.

Kagome glanced at Sesshomaru once before nodding, and Kohaku moved to Sesshomaru. She watched him take his wrists, and saw Sesshomaru's arms tense before Kohaku slapped the manacles on. Then, he did the same for his ankles. Kohaku surveyed his work for a moment, his chain mail sparkling dully in the morning light, before turning to Kagome.

He moved closer to her and whispered, "You're in danger here, Kagome."

"Sota asked for it," she defended. "He has no right to tell me what I can and cannot do."

"I'm talking about your feelings for him." Kohaku jerked his head at Sesshomaru. "I was wrong suggesting that you take him. It has only enhanced your attraction."

"How can you say that?" Kagome demanded. "I despise the man."

"It cannot be that you despise him when you gaze at him with such tenderness."

Kagome glanced at Sesshomaru, her feelings in battle inside her. She should hate this man, this enemy of France, for the way he treated her. She should have known that there is no kindness in England. Still, as she gazed at him, her heart warmed. He was so strong willed, unrelenting in his determination not to give up. Even in the face of immeasurable odds he would not surrender. She saw his resistance every time she looked into his black eyes.

A shower of sunlight splashed through the flap of the tent, bathing Sesshomaru in a pool of light. It ran over his muscled arms like rain, reflecting off of the chains around his wrists. If only he had been born French, she thought. If only they could have been allies, instead of enemies.

"You have never fought openly with Sota before," Kohaku said. "You defended the prisoner over your own brother – in front of the men!"

"Sota acted like a barbarian. Even the men acted like common animals. What happened to honor and pride? Sesshomaru had put down his sword. He was defenseless!"

"They were protecting you, Kagome. Sota and the men believed he would harm you."

"I don't need protection. Not from Sesshomaru."

"Are you so sure?"

Kagome's gaze again found Sesshomaru and her brow furrowed. What was he doing to her? To her life? Under her gaze, he stiffened. The metal manacles tinkled like a bell.

"You need more protection from him than even you realize," Kohaku murmured before departing the tent.

Kagome walked over to Sesshomaru's side. A strand of black hair fell over his forehead, a rich black against his tanned skin. Her eyes dropped to his. She was surprised to find them pensive. Kagome's gaze sank to his ribs, to the red welt. She reached out to touch it, but Sesshomaru pulled away. Kagome glanced at him, startled. Then, resignation washed over her face and she looked quickly away.

He raised his wrists, displaying the manacles. "Is there a need for these?"

"Many think so," she replied softly.

"Do you not command this army? Isn't your word law?"

"They will not touch you again."

"You can't promise me I won't be attacked."

In her mind's eye, Kagome saw the armored shoes kicking him, heard her ineffectual commands to stop.

"They want to kill me," Sesshomaru stated.

"You are the enemy," Kagome replied stoically.

Suddenly, his fingers were on her chin, gently turning her face toward his. "Kagome." Her name was a sigh against his lips. "Your men will try to hurt me again."

Kagome felt the warmth of his hand seep into her chin. He was so close that his breath kissed her lips. For a moment she could barely move, barely breathe.

His fingers gently stroked the fine line of her jaw, sending the heat of his touch blazing throughout the rest of her body.

"Unchain me," he whispered.

Kagome couldn't help but watch his lips caress the words as he spoke. Bound by some irresistible force, she lifted her lips to his, parting them in anticipation of his kiss.

"Let me go."

Her eyes shot open wide in shock and horror. She shook her head fiercely against the idea; her knees were shaking as she stepped back. "I can't do that."

His eyes narrowed slightly and he looked away, disappointment etched in the tight line of his lips.

"How can you ask me to betray my country?" she demanded. "To abandon my oath? For you." He looked up at her sharply, anger in his eyes. "You would not do the same for me."

"You are a woman," he rationalized.

She straightened her shoulders. "Do you truly believe that a woman would give up everything she has worked so hard for…even for the love of a man?"

"Yes," he replied.

Kagome sadly shook her head. "I would not do that. Not even for you, a man who has no love in him."

They stared at each other for a long moment, and strangely, Kagome felt a sense of regret and sadness fill her. His face was hard and cold, unbending beneath her emotions. She turned and retrieved the basin of water off her nightstand near her mattress. "I will tend your wounds."

He turned his back on her as she approached. "No Eastern man, or Eastern woman, could inflict a wound upon me that I would not recover from."

She paused in the middle of the floor, halfway between Sesshomaru and the nightstand. How he must hate her, she thought…as much as I should hate him. She turned and replaced the basin of water. "At De Bouriez Castle you will be safe from harm. My father is waiting there to greet us."

"Your father will be no different from your men," Sesshomaru sneered.

Kagome straightened. "He is my flesh and blood. There is a part of him in me. He will be different."

"He's a man. There will be no kindness, no show of mercy from a Frenchman."

She whirled, angry. "You are so quick to judge us. Do you know us so well?" Kagome wondered, bitterness accompanying every word.

Sesshomaru slowly raised his gold eyes to her. Like fire, they burned through her until her heart melted. She felt his fire flaming through her until she could no longer look at him without wanting him to touch her. What was this control he had over her? Was he truly a demon? she wondered.

"I think I know you very well," he whispered, his voice mocking and seductive in the same breath. "If you take me to your father, it is as good as sending me to my death."

A sudden chill doused the flames his look had ignited. She could not shake the finality of his words. She stepped back from him before turning and leaving her tent. She ordered four of her soldiers to escort Sesshomaru back to the prisoner tent.

* * *

Through the remainder of the day and well into the night, she could not forget Sesshomaru's words. 'Sending me to my death…' She fought the image of Sesshomaru lying dead in a pool of blood and would not believe that her father could do such a thing. All she wanted was for her father to see the Prince of Darkness and know that it was she who had captured him.

Kagome recalled the day she'd decided she would take the oath and become a knight. She was telling her father about her lessons. Kagome was so excited that day that she'd run all the way to the jousting field. Her father had nodded and grinned at her stories. But all the while his eyes had been locked on the jousting field where Kohaku was sharpening his skill. When she told her father that her teacher had said she was far ahead of many of his male pupils, her father had cheered and raised his hands to the air. A grin lit her face as she saw pride in his eyes. Pride and fondness…

Until she realized that he was staring out onto the field. Kagome's eyes followed his gaze and her heart cracked. Kohaku's opponent lay sprawled in the dirt. Her father's delight had not been for her, but for Kohaku and the talent he'd displayed as a warrior.

Ever since that day, Kagome had wanted her father to look at her the way he had looked at Kohaku, the way she had seen him look at Sota. Instead, when he looked at her, all she saw was patient amusement and tolerance.

She crossed her arms behind her head, staring at the top of the tent.

She imagined her father's warm eyes gazing at her, his lips slightly turned up in a smile when he saw she had brought the Prince of Darkness to him. He would be so proud of her. He would say…

A loud cry shattered the night's silence. "Fire!"

* * *

Gods that took forever. Between Family and Friends I hardly had time on the computer these last few days. But here it is. A few more Chapters For your reading pleasure. Hopefully you will leave reviews for me. They inspire my chapters. Later Everyone.


	12. Chapter 11

"Fire !"

The urgent cry of alarm roused Sesshomaru from his slumber and he hurried to his feet, his battle-honed senses instantly alert. He had heard the cry a few times at the castle while growing up and he had been trained to respond quickly. His fellow knights fought off the threat of flames with as much energy as they put forth to dispel any human attacker.

Fire was an enemy hated by all men.

The back wall of Sesshomaru's prison tent glowed faintly with the orange-red light of flames. The fire was so close! Smoke curled in through a gap between the tent wall and the ground and slowly drifted upward.

Outside the tent he could hear men screaming for more water. A horse whinnied in fear, then galloped off into the distance.

Suddenly, a hot burst of light bloomed on the tent wall in a fiery red glow as the blaze moved closer. Sesshomaru felt the temperature in his prison rise dramatically. Droplets of sweat rose on his forehead and then dripped to the dirt, while a sheen of moisture appeared on his arms and legs. The manacle on his left foot slipped lower over his ankle. Sesshomaru dropped back to the ground and started working on the manacle, turning, pulling, pushing.

Behind him the wall crackled. He stopped what he was doing only long enough to see a tendril of fire snake into the tent through the gap and start to crawl up the wall.

He turned his attention back to his ankle. When the guards had failed to chain him to the post in the ground, he knew this was his best chance. He had managed to remove one of his boots and had made some progress with his shackles earlier. Now, with his sweat lubricating the manacle, he was certain he could remove it. He had to; it didn't appear as if anyone was in a hurry to get him out of there.

Outside, the cries grew louder as they competed with the roar of the blaze. More shouts for water. More horses making sounds of terror. Men running in all directions.

Sesshomaru worked intently at the manacle on is ankle, talking to himself under his breath. I'm going to escape. All I need is to get this off and I can escape. The night will be my ally, my cloak. She will hide me well, as she has so many times in the past.

The tent grew hotter. The sweat flowed more freely from his body. The manacle moved even lower. The metal cut into his skin as he forced it lower and the salty sweat stung the tear in his heel. Blood seeped out of the wound. Sesshomaru pulled on his shackles, ignoring the pain his effort was causing. This is nothing compared to what those searing flames will do to me, he told himself.

Then, to his amazement, his foot came free. He jumped to his feet and limped for the tent flap, the chains still attached to his right foot clanking as he ran.

Behind him, the tent wall disappeared into the belly of the inferno, eaten by the ravenous fire that was quickly surrounding him. The sound of the blaze swelled to a deafening roar as he raced outside.

His guards were gone from their posts, obviously busy fighting the fire. He saw at least fifteen tents burning, and several others were already piles of smoldering black ashes. He ran to a nearby tent and cautiously peered around the corner. He looked left and saw a clear path to the woods in the distance. He started to move toward the trees, but a small shadow at the corner of his eye caused him to turn and look back in the direction of his former prison.

The haze of smoke partially hid the figure of the small boy as he hurried inside the burning tent. No! It can't be! Sesshomaru dashed toward the burning tent.

He reared back as he entered. Fire was everywhere, the heat almost unbearable. Sesshomaru squinted as the dark smoke bit at his eyes. His keen ears heard a snap in the roaring flames and he instinctively dived to his left as a burning tent support suddenly crashed to the ground! He felt the searing flames whip around his legs and he pushed himself to his feet, driving forward to escape the heat.

He saw the girl lying on his side in a corner of the tent with her legs pulled tightly to her chest, her face buried in her arms. "Here!" Sesshomaru shouted, but the fire howled around him, drowning out his voice, demanding human flesh to feed its insatiable appetite.

The girl lay unmoving behind the shroud of flames.

Sesshomaru felt his insides tighten with fear and, shielding his face with his manacled hands, he jumped through the curtain of fire. Pain seared his back, but he willed it away. He bent and scooped the girl into his arms, pressing her against his chest, trying to protect her from the heat of the fire.

Sesshomaru exploded through the side wall of the tent, bursting past the charred canvas, moving out onto open ground. He hurried farther away from the flames, away from the intense heat, and then dropped to his knees, cradling the girl to his chest. He could not let him go. He was afraid, afraid of what he might find if he looked into the girls's face. Rin was so still in his arms, so limp. Tears rose in Sesshomaru's eyes as he squeezed the girl close, willing his life into the child, wishing it were him instead of Rin. Slowly, he moved the girl away from his chest, feeling as if he were tearing a piece of skin from his body. I told her to go, he thought desperately. Why is she still here?

Finally, Sesshomaru laid the girl gently on the ground and looked down into her wide eyes. There was no life there, only the reflection of the full moon. He reached toward the girl's shoulder, but stopped as he saw his own hand was shaking.

He clenched his fist for a moment afraid that when he touched her, Rin would not move. "Get up, Rin," he called hoarsely.

Nothing.

He cautiously prodded Rin's shoulder. When the child didn't stir, Sesshomaru felt a desperation surge inside of him. He seized the girl's shoulder and shook it, almost savagely. No, he thought, tears threatening to choke him. "Come on, girl," Sesshomaru commanded. "On your feet."

But the child didn't move; her eyes didn't blink.

"I said on your feet!" he shouted. A moment passed, then another. When Rin did not move, Sesshomaru sat on his heels, staring dumbly at the child. It can't be, he thought. I won't believe it. This cannot be Rin. I told her to leave. I commanded her. She would not disobey me.

Then, he saw it. That lock of dark hair that was forever in the girls's eyes was lying limply at the side of her head, brushed aside for all eternity.

Sesshomaru began to shake. He scooped Rin up into his arms, holding her tightly against his heart, and buried his face into the child's neck. "Oh, God, Rin," he whispered barely able to get the words past his clothing throat. "Why didn't you listen to me? Why couldn't you go…"

He stroked Rin's dark head, his chest constricting tightly, tears blurring his vision. Finally, his sorrow and agony and pain overwhelmed him. He threw back his head. "Noooooo !" he roared, and his anguish echoed through the night.

In the nearby woods, wolves began to howl.

* * *

Going to be away until Sunday. Here is a chapter to hold you til I'm back.


	13. Chapter 12

As Kagome approached, Sesshomaru whirled on her, crouching wolf-like, his upper lip curling, almost snarling. Kagome stopped cold, her gaze captured by the still figure Sesshomaru held close to his chest. Her brow furrowed as she saw the ashen complexion of the small face through the soot that fell on them like black rain, then her eyes moved from the girl up to Sesshomaru's bleak face. The orange light of the fires burning around them caused long shadows to pool beneath Sesshomaru's eyes. He looked so lost. Kagome instinctively stepped toward him, meaning to comfort him.

Sesshomaru pulled back from her approach, and again, a long, anguish-filled groan surged from deep within his throat. Startled, Kagome retreated. Who was this girl that she could evoke such feelings from the Prince of Demons? And what was she doing here in her camp?

Three of her men rushed up beside Kagome and stopped in their tracks as they saw the Prince of Demons. One of the knights glanced at her, then at Sesshomaru, and stepped cautiously forward.

Sesshomaru shifted the girl to his left arm, his face contorting with hate. "Don't touch her," he growled, clutching the girl to his chest. The knight glanced helplessly at Kagome. She stepped forward tentatively, holding her hands out placatingly. "Sesshomaru," she said softly, trying to soothe him. His gold, loathing filled eyes turned on her. "Stay away from me," he snarled. Kagome's arm dropped. "The fire was an accident," she told him, trying to keep patience in her voice as she looked up at him once again. "No one meant to harm the girl." His eyes narrowed with disbelief. "Harm? You and your bloody Easterners killed her!" Sesshomaru shouted, his voice full of pain and rancor.

Kagome's men had spread out around him, surrounding him. She began to shake her head to stop their maneuver but her command came too late. Sesshomaru saw one man coming and flattened him with a fist to his jaw. The other two jumped Sesshomaru from behind, knocking him to the ground, pinning the girl beneath him. Kagome watched in awe of his strength as he held the two men on top of him off the girl with the power of his muscular arms.

Lightning flashed in the sky, illuminating Sesshomaru's tormented face. The two knights managed to grab his arms and yanked him to his feet. Kagome opened her mouth to command them to halt, when Sesshomaru kneed one man in his stomach and pulled him to the ground. He turned on the last man, seizing him and picking him up over his head as easily as a rag doll, throwing him to the ground.

Breathing heavily, he turned to the girl as another spear of lightning cut the darkening sky. Tenderly, he bent and lifted her up from the dirt, then whirled and advanced on Kagome.

"I can't let you go," she said, her pulse racing. But how could she stop him? She had no weapon and he was so powerful. "I'm not asking you," Sesshomaru stated flatly, halting just a step before her. Kagome stood her ground, unmoving. "Don't make me hurt you," Sesshomaru warned, his face shadowed in darkness, his shoulders outlined by the dying fire behind him. "I have never hurt a woman before." The first splash of rain touched her cheek. Kagome swallowed hard. She watched his jaw clench and finally raised her chin to him. "You'll have to kill me to escape." His lip curled. "And you think I would not? After what you did to her?" "I did not harm her, Sesshomaru." "If you had not captured me, Rin would still be alive!" he exploded.

Kagome stared at him. The anger, the hate, but mostly the pain, etched themselves deep in the lines near his black eyes. Her eyebrows rose slightly in sympathy; her eyes went soft with understanding. "I wish I could bring her back." His eyebrows crashed together and he looked down at the girl in his arms. The rain began in earnest then, quickly drenching them through to their skin. "I will not allow her to be buried in Eastern soil," he said in a hushed voice. "And I will not let your efforts be for naught," he whispered to Rin.

Suddenly, Sesshomaru jerked forward, slamming Kagome's shoulder with his, jarring her enough so that he could race by her and into the forest! Kagome recovered quickly. A quick glance into camp revealed that the fire was confined to two tents burning in the distance. She turned and immediately followed him into the trees and brush. She pushed through one row of bushes, just able to see his back as he disappeared into another set of thick foliage. The child in his arms and the chain around his ankle were slowing him down, enabling her to keep up with him. The rain pelted her face, the branches slapping her arms and tearing at her clothing. Kagome would not let anything stop her. He will not escape, she thought, an inconceivable fear rising inside her. He can't escape! I have to feel his touch again. No. Where had that thought come from? I have to get him to Father's castle.

She pushed forward, willing her legs to go faster. As the forest thickened, the darkness closed in around her, making it difficult to see. She reached out blindly, trying to avoid the trees that reared up to stop her. She could hear him ahead of her, hear the crunch of leaves beneath his booted feet, hear the bushes giving way as he crashed through them. Her heart pounded in her ears, her breathing hard and loud. She pushed her way through the foliage, desperately following his sounds. He must not get away, she thought. He can't escape. Suddenly, his surprised cry echoed in the night!

The shock she heard in his voice rent her very being and she hurried forward, driving on, panic and horror rising within her. Was he hurt? Had one of her men found him defenseless in the forest and put a sword through him? The next thing she knew, the forest was gone and she was in the middle of the air, suspended far above a glistening pool of water! Then, she was falling, falling down into the blackness that waited to swallow her. Her scream was cut short as she crashed into water, plummeting beneath its surface. She pushed toward the surface with her arms and legs, but a strong current seized her and whirled her around beneath the dark water.

Suddenly, she was spit out from the water, erupting into the night air, sputtering and gasping for breath. Kagome was tossed about in the raging current, barely missing the rocks that stuck out of the rapids, their dangerous shapes lit only by an occasional bolt of lightning. Her hands flailed, trying to grab onto anything that rode the current with her. But the water was too fast, forcing her on. She fought for breath after breath as if the river were trying to devour her, wave after wave sucking her beneath the water.

The black rock rose without warning out of the murky depths and Kagome slammed into it, her back hitting the hard stone full force, sending a spear of pain shooting through her left arm. She opened her mouth to cry out, but the water assaulted her again, filling her mouth and making her choke. She tried to press her right hand against the pulsating ache, but the turbulent strength of the water kept her too busy fighting to keep her head above the waves. The water pushed her on and on until finally, after what seemed like hours, the waves of rapids stopped. For a moment, she floundered in the water, catching her breath. She was dazed and weak, her left arm burning where the rock had bitten into her tender flesh. The current, now slowed, pushed her on through the dark night and the darker waters. She was so tired, so very tired. How easy it would be to give up the fight, to let the river cover her head.

Then she spotted Sesshomaru, far ahead of her, his dark shape shadowed by the lighter sky. He was atop a large rock, hanging onto the girl with two hands. The girl's legs dangled in the rushing water. She felt a last surge of power course through her limbs. With a kick and a quick arm movement, she tried to maneuver over to Sesshomaru.

Then she heard it. The large roar of the waterfall! As she approached Sesshomaru, the thunder filled her head. The water suddenly became stronger again as it dragged her on. She tried to fight against the new current, but as she drew closer and closer, she found she was moving forward faster than she was moving closer to Sesshomaru.

Sesshomaru maneuvered to the side of the rock, holding the girls's shirt with one hand as he held his other palm out to her. She saw his lips move but couldn't hear his words above the roar that filled her head. She reached her hand out, kicking with her feet as hard as she could. She was going to miss his hand. He was too far away!

Then he lunged forward and caught her hand. The water pushed her forward until her feet were dangling over the side of the falls! Below her, the mouth of darkness swallowed up the cascading water.

"Grab my hand!" he hollered, his words finally discernible above the thunderous sound of the plummeting water as it crashed and churned below her.

Kagome raised her left hand and grabbed his wrist, but the water made it slick and her hand slid away.

Her desperate eyes sought his again.

"Grab it!" he commanded.

Kagome raised her hand to his, but as she touched his skin, their hands slipped. She cried out as she was dragged toward the falls.

Sesshomaru caught her fingertips, his face straining with the effort to keep their hold. Sesshomaru was stretched out over the rock in his attempt to rescue Kagome and keep hold of the girl. One hand held the tips of Kagome's fingertips, the other gripped the girls's dress as the water swept at her limp feet with a hungry pull. Sesshomaru couldn't hold on to both of them.

Kagome saw Sesshomaru glanced toward the body of the girl. Anguish darkened his face as he turned back to her. He glared at her – and released the girl to grab her wrist. She watched the small body tumble over the waterfall, gracefully, silently, as if it were jumping into the water below. Sesshomaru pulled her out of the water onto the rock and into his hold.

For a moment Kagome lay in Sesshomaru's arms, holding him tightly, trying to catch her breath; she couldn't even open her eyes. The constant rain pelted her already wet face. Finally, she looked up toward his eyes only to find them gazing first to one side, then the other, scrutinizing the riverbank. Without looking at her, he asked, "Can you swim to shore?" Kagome didn't reply. She knew she couldn't, not now. Not without getting some rest. She began to shake her head.

A flash of lightning filled the sky as he turned his unwavering gaze to her. The eerie light cast his face in long shadows, making him look like the dark prince he was called. Under his probing gaze, she became distinctly aware of his strong arm around her waist, his legs resting beside her thighs, the intimate way he held her nestled between his spread legs. She looked away from him.

His soft, angry chuckle reached her ears. "Try to keep your desires under control, Priestess." Her gaze snapped up to his, fury burning in her eyes, but it was rage at herself that fueled the fire. Was she so transparent? "You misread me," she stated imperiously. As he bent his head closer to her, she raised her chin. His eyes burned with disdain. "Then you do not need me to service you…now?" he wondered bitterly. "Or ever again," she snapped. "I would just as soon throw myself over the falls." "That can be arranged." His tone was serious, but he had not removed his arms from her torso. "Now, can you swim or not?"

She could hear the sound of the water sliding over the falls and crashing somewhere far below. The shore was so far. She knew she would not make it. Still, she wished with all her heart that she could, just so she could get away from this overbearing, conceited cur. "Answer me before I throw you in," he commanded. She straightened her shoulders. "I do not take orders from prisoners." His chuckle sounded again in her ears, closer this time. "I believe it is you who are now my prisoner."

Kagome reared back, breaking free of his hold and turning on him. She lost her balance and began to tumble from the rock. Sesshomaru's arm shot out and he caught her wrist, steadying her. She angrily pulled free of him, being sure to lean forward this time instead of backward, but a shooting pain flared up her left arm and her vision blurred for a moment. She fell into Sesshomaru.

He caught her by the arms, leaning back to catch her full weight without going into the water. He felt her body go limp for a moment before she struggled to sit up. She put a hand to her forehead. "You're hurt," he said. "No," she insisted weakly. "I'm all right." "Stay here," he commanded, and slid out from beneath her. As he stood, Kagome found that her eyes were drawn to him like moths to a flame. When lightning speared the dark sky, his body seemed to glow with radiant fire.

He dove into the water, cleanly cutting it with his body, and she watched as he disappeared beneath the surface of the black liquid only to emerge seconds later near the shore. Still, she saw the effort it took for him to battle the current. His powerful arms speared the water, his booted feet slamming down with each kick. Even with the power in his limbs, he was nearing the side of the falls. Kagome leaned forward, silently urging him on. What would she do if he didn't make it? Kagome watched, holding her breath, as he reached out to a bush and just barely missed it. He gave another kick, and she said a silent prayer. Then his hand closed around a tree branch and he pulled himself closer and closer to the land until he was able to stand up and walk. He sat down heavily on the soggy earth.

Kagome sat back and closed her eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. He had made it. The thunder rumbled as if in warning, and Kagome glanced up again. The shore was empty. She almost stood in her panic. Had he left her alone? Left her on this rock to die? Of course! What better way to escape? She berated herself. What was she thinking? How could she have let him go? Her eyes scanned the shore. It was dark amid the bushes and trees that lined the bank, making it next to impossible to discern any movement. Damn! She stood up on the rock, judging the distance between the rock and the shore.

Something wet and sinewy brushed her cheek and she cried out, her hand brushing at it frantically. She heard a splash and looked into the river to see something slither away. A snake! she thought. It disappeared and she nervously searched the water for any movement. She had heard of snakes capable of eating a whole man. A shiver raced through her.

As she searched the waters, something fell over her head and dangled in her eyes like a piece of wet rope. Another snake! Kagome reached up and grabbed at it only to find that it was some sort of vine. She pulled it tight and followed it with her eyes until she saw Sesshomaru standing on the shore, holding the other end. He signaled for her to tie it around her waist. She closed her eyes in silent thanks.

Kagome did as he indicated, tying the vine tightly around her waist. Without warning, he yanked the vine hard and she flew into the river, sputtering and floundering as she hit the water! The current immediately seized her, casting her toward the falls. But there was another force tugging at her waist, pulling her toward the shore. It was the vine. Sesshomaru.

She tried to swim, but her left arm throbbed every time she moved it. Finally, she felt the muddy earth of the shore beneath her feet. She staggered a few steps on tired, aching legs and fell to her knees on land. Sesshomaru began untying the rope at her waist. Kagome whirled on him, pushing his hands away. "You could have told me to jump!" He pulled back, stepping away from her. "You wouldn't have heard me." She stood up, scowling at him. She tried to untie the vine, but every time she moved her arm, pain flared into her shoulder. She tried again, but the agony was too much. She turned her back on Sesshomaru. "That doesn't give you the right to drown me." "Drown you? I saved your life." Kagome braced her left arm against the vine, holding it still, and managed to unknot it. She threw it down and turned to him. "Your arm!" "I'm all right," she said, even though she knew she was not.

A fork of lightning ripped the night sky, highlighting Sesshomaru's wet body. With only leggings and one boot on, he might as well have been naked. Then, the light was gone and she could only see him as a shadow. She looked up into the sky, but could only see the leaves of trees, feel the splash of the rain.

"Do you know where we are?" His voice came to her through the darkness and she turned to him. "I can't tell without the stars." She brushed back a strand of wet hair that fell into her face as she surveyed their surroundings. "We need to find shelter," he said. "We can build something with leaves and branches," Kagome said, her gaze sweeping the forest floor. "We go down," he said. "There may be a cave beneath the falls." Kagome's gaze snapped to him. "Move," he commanded, and reached out to her. Kagome stepped back, outrage on her face. "Don't command me like a common servant." "I command you like a prisoner," he stated indifferently, and again reached for her. She moved out of his reach. "I am not your prisoner. I fully intend to return to my camp…with you." "Then your intent is wrong." His hand shot out and he grabbed her wrist, pulling her after him.

She fought him, struggling against his hold, her booted feet slipping in the mud. His grip was like a manacle. She could not break it. Then he bent, grabbing her around the legs, and hoisted her over his shoulder. Outrage consumed her and she pounded his back with a clenched fist. It was like hitting stone. He moved through the forest, headed downstream. The hill sloped, but his footsteps were sure and confident. She squirmed, and for a moment he lost his balance. "Don't make me bind you," he threatened.

Even though is voice was low, she heard him over the pounding, thrashing sound of the water. Rage filled her body and she clenched her teeth, vowing to escape him. He came to a halt at the bottom of the hill and slid her to her feet. The falls shimmered before them. Thunder rumbled high over their heads as Sesshomaru began to enter the water. Kagome took a step into the dark water before she brought up her foot, hitting Sesshomaru square in the middle of the back. He fell forward, into the water, losing his grip on her arm.

Kagome turned and bolted into the forest, racing past trees, the thought of escape fueling her tired muscles with renewed energy. Her feet slipped in the mud as she dashed through the darkness, skirting more trees, leaping over fallen branches. Then her anger faded and she faltered, slowing her pace. I need him, she thought. I must return him to camp. I must bring him back. Her slowed pace was enough. She knew without even looking that he had already closed the gap between them. She heard his steps coming up behind her. That alone was enough to rouse her defiant spirit. Kagome surged forward, but it was too late. He had her, grabbing her around the stomach and picking her up off her feet. As she fought against his hold, twisting in his arms to hit his head, he turned her and roughly thrust her back into a tree.

Pain shot up her left arm and she whimpered, cradling her elbow as he slid her back to her feet. When he raised his head, his eyes were glowing with the reflection of the lightning. "You cannot escape me," he whispered, his voice deep and dangerous. "Not now. Not ever." She could feel his body pressed up against hers to keep her in place, to keep her still, to keep her captive. Kagome could not tear her eyes from his. How he must hate me, she thought.

Then his lips were on hers, searing across them, demanding entrance. She was startled for a moment, raising her hands to his chest in a weak protest. Then, slowly, his lips fanned the flames within her until she relaxed and parted her own. He drove his tongue into her mouth, pressing his body against her, demanding that she yield. Kagome felt every stone-cut muscle of his strong, powerful physique against her own. The heat of his lips drained her will. She closed her eyes, letting the feel of his kiss wash over her, like rain.

Then he pulled back. She couldn't move, didn't want the kiss to end, didn't want the tenderness to be over. When she finally opened her eyes, she found a mocking grin curving his lips, laughter in his eyes. "Maybe I have been using the wrong method to control you," he whispered. Humiliation, hurt, and hate raged within her. "No man can control me," she retorted, struggling to break free of him. He pressed himself closer to her, stilling her vain efforts at escape. "Shall we put that to the test?" "You cur," she snarled. "You have no honor. How could your Ruler ever have knighted you?" "I was wondering the same of you." Angry eyes clashed as lightning ripped the sky and thunder rumbled in the forest around them. Sesshomaru grabbed her arm and shoved her past him, toward the river. "Now, move," he commanded. "Lest I try to control you again."

Kagome stumbled, sliding to her knees in the mud. She quickly stood, and marched through the downpour to the river. There she came up short. The river was still, except for the crashing of water onto the rocks. Tiny drops of rain stung the pool. She heard his steps through the mud as he approached her from behind. She braced for a shove. "Your arm is bleeding," he said. Kagome was surprised by the concern she heard. She clutched the back of her left arm. There was a tear in her tunic and as she touched the skin, hot pain flared up her arm. She pulled her fingers back to find blood on them. Sesshomaru stepped up to her. She could feel his presence close to her. "It needs binding," he murmured. Kagome did not reply. The blood on her fingers was a deep red, even though the rain diluted the color. She had to get him to take her back to the camp. Lucien would see to her wound.

Ignoring the throbbing in her fingers, she stepped into the river, heading for the falls. As she drew closer to the tumbling water, she could see that Sesshomaru was right. There was a cave behind the falls. She climbed over the boulders, heading for the shelter. Behind the cascading waterfall was a small ledge, and she crept along it until she reached the entrance to the dark hole in the cliff wall. The cave was small, with room enough for only about five people lying down. Large enough for her and Sesshomaru.

But it was dark and wet. The floor was damp, and water dripped from the ceiling. There was a chill to the place, and as she entered the cave, she shivered.

"Take your clothes off," he stated. Kagome whirled on him. Was he going to rape her? Here? He was silhouetted against the water, a dark shadow standing in the entrance to the cave. He stepped forward and Kagome retreated until her back hit the stone wall. "I will not yield to you. I will fight you with my last breath." He chuckled quietly, his laughter echoing through the cave. "I would not have it any other way." He reached out a hand to her shoulder. Kagome found herself trembling as he lifted her wet hair and brushed it behind her shoulder. "Remove your clothes or I will do it for you." "I – I only have a chemise on," Kagome replied breathlessly. "I've seen many before," Sesshomaru answered. "Yours will be no different."

Angry, Kagome shoved him away. He stepped back, his eyes never wavering from her. She stared hard at him, trying to decide what it was he wanted. Unable to read those dark eyes, she raised her chin, narrowed her eyes, and lifted her tunic over her head. She stood holding the wet tunic, her furious eyes locked on him. "Your leggings and boots, too," he commanded in a somewhat husky voice.

Kagome tossed the wet tunic on the ground and sat on a rock. She raised her left foot and pulled the boot off. Then she repeated the movement with her right foot. She stood and shimmied out of the leggings. These followed the tunic to the floor. Sesshomaru approached her slowly and Kagome dropped her hands from her hips. The gauzy material of her chemise was wet and clung to her body as she moved. The sleeves of her chemise were mere straps and the waist was gathered. The skirt was shorter than average, falling only to mid-thigh. She usually gathered the material and tucked it into her leggings, then secured her tunic with a belt. The chemise was the one feminine item she could never seem to rid herself of. It protected her skin from the rough wool tunics she sometimes wore.

Sesshomaru stared at her for a long moment and she returned his heated gaze with fury. Finally, he bent and picked up her tunic, leggings, and boots and turned away from her. Kagome watched as he spread out her clothing on the floor of the cave. Then he sat on a rock. A spear of lightning lit the cave and she saw his shoulder muscles bunch and release with the effort of pulling his boot off. His dark, wet hair hung over his shoulder. He paused for a moment, staring at the chain around his other foot. Then he rose, staring at her. Kagome looked back at him. His intense gaze burned into her, sending shivers down to the core of her being. She was suddenly very aware of how transparent her chemise was. She crossed her arms over her chest in a futile attempt to cover herself from his gaze.

A grin lit his lips. He stood and came back toward her. Kagome felt her heart pound; tingles shot up her spine. Sesshomaru was much taller than she was, and more powerful. Heat radiated from his body like the sun; she could feel its scorching intensity burning from his eyes. She refused to back away from the danger, refused to yield to him, even though she might be burned, even when he raised his hand. She would fight him, she vowed. "Believe me, Angel," he said, in a strangely husky voice that was filled with hidden anger. "My mind is on other things."

Then he touched her left arm. Waves of desire crashed over her and she floundered in a sea of passion, battling against the waves that assaulted her, yet relishing the warmth of his touch. Then his hand was gone and she was slapped back onto the shore of reality. He raised his hand up between them and she saw the blood that stained his fingertips. "Let me help you," Sesshomaru said. Kagome was shaken by his effect on her body and knew she had to separate herself from him before he infested her mind, as he had before. She pulled away from his touch. With the movement, pain shot through her arm. She tenderly clutched at it, feeling the wetness of blood. "I don't want your help," she answered. Sesshomaru pulled back. He towered over her for a long moment, refusing to take his eyes from her. Finally, he withdrew to the other side of the cave. Kagome sat down on a rock. She wasn't sure whether she was exhausted from the wound, the water, or her constant war with Sesshomaru. All she knew was that she had to get back to camp…and she had to bring Sesshomaru with her.

Somehow.

* * *

Hey everyone sorry about that. I was out of town helping my dad. Sorry to keep you waiting so long. Here's the newest Chapter. Also for those of you wondering. No. Rin is dead for now. Her death is put there to bring home the point of personal loss in times of war. Too many people I have talked to say that a war would have no effect on them. Sorry. I may bring her back in the long run. I may not. I hope you continue to read this but if not I understand.


	14. Chapter 13

Sesshomaru turned to Kagome for the thousandth time. He watched the morning light wash slowly over her with the rising sun. Her makeshift chemise was almost dry now, the fabric conforming around the smooth, rounded curves of her body. She was still nestled between two rocks near the back of the cave, and he had not been able to get a look at her wound. He knew the cut was deep from the pool of blood that had collected near her hip. Why was she being so stubborn? he wondered. Would she truly allow herself to die?

He absently rubbed his chafed wrist. He had removed the rest of his chains during the night, working them off in the water only after he was sure she was asleep. He glanced out of the cave where the waterfall hid them, not really seeing what lay beyond. She was the cause of all his pain. It was true, he thought, thinking back on her words. She does look into my eyes and see hate, as she should. I should hate her. For daring to stand against me – the Prince of Demons! For outwitting me. But most of all, for killing Rin. If she had not captured me, then she would never have been in her camp.

Again the girl's image rose in his mind's eye. That one lock of hair hanging before her brown eyes. Grief welled in his throat, closing it until he could barely breathe. She would have made a fine knight, Sesshomaru thought sadly. A great knight. Now, I cannot even give her the burial she was entitled to. The waters claimed her body just as the fire and smoke stole her breath. Damn this East land.

He shook his head. I will build a memorial for her when I return to Dark Castle, he vowed silently. And I will bring her killer back to England, so she can suffer for killing her.

Again, his eyes were drawn to her. She looked so pale and helpless, so small. How could she possibly command an army? he wondered angrily. Who would call himself sane and put a woman in charge of men?

Kagome shifted and her face contorted in pain, a soft groan issuing from her full lips. Sesshomaru immediately stepped forward and knelt at her side. Her head was tilted to the right, a strand of dark hair falling over her cheek. Her left arm was turning a purplish color, and for a moment he wondered if it were broken, but he recalled her moving it and knew it was not. He had to see the wound, see how deep it was.

He moved closer. His knee brushed her thigh and Sesshomaru glanced down. Her chemise had slid up her leg, revealing most of her silky white thigh. Intense desire flared inside him and he suddenly found that he could not move. Slowly he raised his eyes. The small strap at her shoulder had flopped down her arm to pool at her elbow. Who was this woman that she could evoke such powerful lust in him? His gaze slowly moved across her small waist, up to her breasts and to her full lips…a trail his hands longed to follow. Why did she trouble his thoughts now more than ever?

He reared back from her as if struck. Because he wanted to touch her. He wanted to see her arch beneath him, cry out in pleasure as their naked bodies entwined in the throes of passion. And yet he knew he could not. She was forbidden – an enemy. He could never show Rin's killer any pleasure. The thought should have been repulsive, yet it was all he could think of when she was close. I must not view her as a woman. I must see her forever as my prisoner, as my enemy.

He stood and moved quickly to the entrance of the cave.

"Wake up," he called.

Her eyes snapped open, her hand instinctively reaching for the spot where her sword should have been, but all she grabbed was air. Her blue orbs focused on him with an alarmed expression.

"On your feet," he commanded.

She shot to her feet. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"It is time to move on," he said.

Kagome stood, dumbfounded. Then he watched as anger seeped over her face. She scowled at him for a long moment, then straightened with indignation and adjusted her sleeve, pulling it up over her shoulder.

Sesshomaru steeled himself against his desire by concentrating on how much he wanted to kill her. To put his hands around her neck and squeeze. These thoughts did nothing to lessen the lust in his loins. He knew he could never kill her. He narrowed his eyes. "Do not try to seduce me, or I will take what you offer."

Her mouth dropped open. "Would you rather my clothing fell from my body?"

A dark smiled curved his lips.

Her brows furrowed. She turned away from him only to have the pain consume her body. She clutched at her arm, keeping her back to him so he would not see her agony.

Sesshomaru knew she was in pain, and some part of him wanted to go to her, but he did not move. She did not want his help; she had made that clear. He waited until she straightened, bringing the pain under control enough to face him. "You are a fool for not letting me see your wound. It could well become infected."

"Why would you care?"

Her question startled him. "I do not wish my prisoners to die," he stated. "As you did not."

"I am not your prisoner," she responded weakly, and sat on a rock.

Sesshomaru's sharp eyes saw that she could barely move the arm. Perhaps it was not wise to argue with her when she was so pale…so weak. She sat in the dark cave, her head bent, her dark hair hanging in long curls over her shoulders. He watched the damn sleeve slowly slide down her arm again and wished that her clothes were dry. They had still been wet when he had scooped them up and carried them to a rock outside only minutes earlier. The damp cave had not allowed them to dry at all.

Finally, Kagome raised her eyes to him. "We need food," she said. "Or do you plan to starve yourself?"

Her words were as sharp as a sword's blade. "I have already eaten," he said, thinking back to the berries and roots he had gathered and eaten before sunrise. He watched disbelief flash in her large blue eyes and almost smiled. She had no way of knowing that he had picked enough for her, also. She shot to her feet and marched past him, but he caught her right arm. "Where are you going?" he demanded.

Her eyes narrowed, her back stiffened. "Take your hand off me."

"I have no intention of letting you out of my sight."

Her lip curled as her eyes swept him. "You think if I wanted to escape I could not?" She yanked her arm free of his hold. "You selfish Western dog! I hold nothing but contempt for you."

"You would not talk to me thus if you were a man."

"Then you have known only cowards," she retorted.

What a fiery little wench. He thought back to the Wolf Pack for an instant, the way they stood up to the knights in the field. "Coward is not a word I would use to describe the men I have known."

"No? How about pigs? Louts? Flea-ridden maggots?"

A chuckled churned from his throat. Kagome marched past him, but before she left the cave, he said, "There are berries and roots in the corner."

Kagome stopped and turned. He watched her hide her embarrassment under a coat of pride. Most women would have broken down in tears long ago, but not Angel. She traded insult for insult. She could easily fend for herself, but what was most impressive to Sesshomaru was that she did not cower before him.

She straightened her shoulders, adjusted her sleeve, and moved to the corner of the cave where he had placed the food. She knelt, her small hands scooping up the red berries. As she brought a berry to her mouth, that accursed sleeve slid to her elbow again where a chestnut curl caught it. Her hair had dried in rebellious spirals along her back. Sesshomaru found his eyes roaming over the path of her dark tendrils until they ended at the curve in her back near her waist where another curve began. Without her armor, she was a very pleasing morsel.

As if reading his thoughts, she straightened and looked over her shoulder at him.

Those brown eyes glistened in the light that shimmered through the waterfall, those full lips slightly parted. Sesshomaru turned away from her. The little vixen! How could she have been a virgin with sultry looks like those, especially surrounded by all those men? He stepped quickly out of the cave. I cannot think of her like that, he reminded himself. She is an Eastern prisoner. I must treat her as one.

Still, the image of that demure sultry look was engraved on his memory. Those lips…so tempting, so ripe for kissing. He wanted to feel them against his own again.

No wonder those weak Frenchmen had put the little wench in charge of their army! With fiery looks like those, it took all his will not to drop to his knees and pledge his eternal devotion to her. He reached out with both hands to the waterfall and scooped up some water. He doused his face and shook his head, trying to free himself of her spell.

"Sesshomaru."

She was right behind him. Prisoner, he thought. Just a prisoner.

"I think my arm is broken," she said quietly.

"Can you move it?" he asked tersely.

"A little. Lucien can set it. I've seen him do it before."

Sesshomaru's back grew rigid. Escape. Was her mind always working? He turned to her. Her eyes were large and alluring. "I can set it," he said. She withdrew until her back was against the stones at the entrance to the cave. He suspected by the way she moved it that her arm wasn't really broken.

Sesshomaru stepped forward. He stared at her for a long moment. Her eyes were a dark blue that reminded him of the sky on a very clear day, her lips full and kissable. He lowered his eyes. Her chemise was almost translucent and he could see her dark nipples through the thin material, see the shape of her breasts. He swallowed in a suddenly dry throat and reached out to take her wounded arm gently into his hands. He felt her trembling and raised questioning dark eyes to her. Was she cold?

Wide, innocent blue eyes returned his gaze before falling to his lips. Carefully, without taking his eyes from hers, he slid the sleeve down her arm. The roar of the waterfall was nothing compared to the roar of passion that raged through his body. He stepped closer to her, his hot body touching the linen chemise, his hard muscles caressing the softness of her skin. He felt her inhale, pressing her breasts against his chest. A curl from her hair floated down the side of her face, and he reached up to brush it aside. Her arm was all but forgotten; his fingertips traced the outline of her cheek as he brushed the strand back. Her hair was as soft as her chemise. He ran his fingers through her mane of curls. Crushing the waves of her hair in an iron grip, he suddenly pulled her face close to his.

She opened her mouth slightly and her sweet breath fanned his lips. Her body pressed close to his, hot and soft.

Then he was kissing her. His hot kiss moved across her mouth, demanding entrance, forcing her to yield to his expertise. When she parted her lips, he drove his tongue deep into the recesses of her mouth. It was like tasting a sweet berry. And he wanted more…so much more.

"Kagome!"

It was his passion crying out to her. God, how he wanted her.

"Kagome!"

Sesshomaru broke away, glancing over his shoulder. Voices!

"Kagome! Where are you?" A search party! Had they been seen?

He turned back to her. She was opening her mouth to call out. He quickly clamped his hand over her lips. "Not a word," he hissed. His passion had suddenly cooled. Had she somehow seen them coming? Tried to distract him by saying her arm was broken? He glanced down at her arm. He had seen many limbs that had been broken in battle, but hers looked nothing like those. It had been a ploy, he was sure. He glanced back through the falls, trying to make out how many there were, but he could not see even one. He swiveled his head to the cause of all of his problems. She stared at him with those wide eyes, eyes that only moments before had seduced him into wanting her. He would deal with her seduction later. He moved her back into the darkness of the cave.

"I won't be taken again," he promised her. "Not by the Easterners."

Something flashed in those large eyes…something soft and tender.

"Kagome!"

Sesshomaru braced himself for her attempt at escape, but she was motionless against him. He pulled her back into a dark corner of the cave. Again his eyes sought the entrance. He could see no movement through the waterfall, but they were out there. He glanced down at Kagome. She was staring at him, quietly, not moving. He frowned. If it were him, he would be fighting to free himself. Perhaps she realized a fight was useless against his strength. Perhaps she was smarter than he realized. Or perhaps, just perhaps, she had enjoyed the kiss as much as he had…

Cursing, he whirled her around so her back was pressed full against him, his hand tight over her mouth. God's blood! he thought. I cannot enjoy the thought of such things. She is my enemy. I must see her delivered to England.

"Kagome!"

Even thought the voice was growing closer, he didn't fear discovery. The falls would hide them well enough. The French knights didn't know they were here. But then Sesshomaru tensed as a new thought struck him. The clothes! Good Lord, if they discovered the clothing, they would scour the area and there would be no chance for escape.

He pulled Kagome to the waterfall, holding her close against him, and stepped out onto the ledge. He peered cautiously around the falling water to the spot where he had placed the clothing between two boulders to dry in the sun. His sharp eyes searched the surrounding wood. No one was near the clothes. They were safe.

Then the branches on a nearby bush shook and parted as a French knight stepped forward, moving closer to the muddy shore of the river. He was looking down, searching the ground, flicking aside stones with his drawn sword. All he had to do was glance up over the boulder to his right and all hope for escape would be gone. Sesshomaru held his breath. He had never prayed to God before, but he did now. The knight stepped closer to the rocks.

Kagome shifted her stance just then and her foot hit a small stone, sending it over the ledge and into the roaring water.

Sesshomaru angrily pulled her back against the wall. His eyes fastened on the man. Had he heard? The knight was using his toe to brush aside a small plant growing in between the rocks. Sesshomaru glanced down into the falls, following the path of the small stone. That's when he saw them, more small rocks littering the side of the ledge. He raised his eyes to the knight. Without releasing his hold on Kagome's mouth, Sesshomaru bent and scooped a good-sized stone into his hand. He arced his arm over his head, sending the stone flying through the air. It landed behind the knight in the forest, cracking loudly against the trunk of a tree.

At the sound, the knight whirled, raising his sword before him. He hesitated for only a moment before moving off into the forest.

That had been close. Too close. Anger quickly replaced Sesshomaru's relief. He pulled Kagome back into the cave and released her. His eyes narrowed as his gaze swept over her. "I will not be so easily distracted next time."

She turned her back on him. She could not be trusted, he decided. She would have to be watched. But could he watch her and keep his distance from her at the same time?

It was growing more and more difficult to convince himself that it was she who had killed Rin. She had not set the blaze. But I would not have been in her camp if she hadn't captured me, and if I was not in her camp, then Rin would not have been there. So it was her fault! Still, if I had not allowed myself to be caught…he did not like the way his argument was turning. Angry, he spun away from her to step onto the ledge.

Sesshomaru's eyes scanned the forest. The knight was gone. There was no sign of any other men, either, although he knew they were still out there. He returned to Kagome and clasped her shoulder.

She pulled it free, wincing as her abrupt movement jarred her wounded arm. "You don't have to lead me around like an animal," she snapped.

His dark eyes narrowed. "I have no chains to bind your wrists; therefore my hands will act as such."

Her sapphire eyes danced darkly in the twinkling light that reflected through the shimmering waterfall. "Have no fear, Prince. If I chose to escape I'm sure that you, of all men, could easily thwart me. Your touch is not warranted, even by a mere slut."

His words thrown back in his face were unsettling. Yet the rich sarcasm with which she delivered them roused his anger. She was mocking him. Still, beneath the sarcasm he heard a hidden pain and he wanted to recant the accusation. Confused by the emotions she fueled in him, he turned toward the entrance. "Then follow me."

They had stopped only long enough to don their boots and for Kagome to replace her wet clothing. By midday, her tunic was dry, but the muddy forest and occasional puddles soaked her boots through to her leggings. Her feet were cold and her legs ached. Sesshomaru had led her on, resting only once all day. Kagome's pride would not allow her to request a break from his grueling pace, so she had trudged along after him.

Finally, well after the sun had set, Sesshomaru halted. Kagome's entire body was numb. She was grateful for the pause and leaned her back against the cool bark of a tree. When she looked up at Sesshomaru, his back was to her and the white light of the moon washed over his shoulder muscles. His head was raised to the sky for a long moment, his dark black hair falling over his strong shoulders. Then he turned to her. "We rest here for the night."

She waited only long enough for him to brush by her before she sighed and slid down the tree to the forest floor. As soon as she rested for a moment, all her pains came to life, culminating with a throbbing ache in her head. She put her head in her arms, wondering what he was trying to prove.

Kagome raised her head slowly to see that Sesshomaru was standing not far from her, staring out into the forest. He was like a statue, dark, impenetrable, and absolutely still. She wondered if she would ever be able to break through his defenses. Not that she wanted to, she told herself. She only wondered if it were possible. He is my enemy, she thought, as he has reminded me so many times. I only wanted my father to see what a great warrior I am to have captured the Prince of Darkness. I do not care of him.

Then his head dropped in weariness and there was something in the movement that made her see him as a man instead of a soldier. The need to soothe his tired brow brought her to her feet. For some reason, she wanted to speak with him as if they weren't enemies, as if they were merely a man and a woman. Perhaps it was his refusal to speak to her throughout the day that made Kagome want his conversation, perhaps it was because he looked so miserable that made her want to comfort him. Whatever it was, she found herself moving up behind him and placing her hand carefully on his shoulder. She felt every sinew tense, felt the conflict that clenched his fists. "What?" he asked tersely. "No dagger in your fist?"

Kagome refused to be baited. But she dropped her hand at his open rejection. "If I were a Western warrior would you hate me so?"

He did not turn. "You are not Western. And you never will be."

"Then why didn't you just slit my throat when we were alone in my tent?" she asked.

He turned then, his white smile glowing in the moonlight, his eyes dark and shadowed with anger. "I had no dagger."

She raised her chin. "Then kill me now."

His smiled disappeared. "There is no need now. You are my prisoner." He stepped toward her. She retreated until he stopped mere inches from her. "Although I have every right, after what you did."

Fierce anger swept her. "I would never kill a child."

"And yet the fact remains that she is dead," Sesshomaru snarled.

Kagome stared up into his black, hate-filled eyes. The girl was someone special to him, someone who had won his love. Suddenly she felt a flash of jealousy. "Who was she?"

The question seemed to startle him. Then his face tightened and his jaw clenched. A rage so powerful that it threatened to shake the very ground beneath his feet trembled through his body. "My daughter," he ground out.

Kagome's mouth dropped. Daughter, her mind repeated. How had the girl gotten into her camp? What in heaven was she doing in France? Why wasn't she home with her mother? Mother. Even through her sorrow at Sesshomaru's loss, a nagging question rose in her mind; did he have a wife?

She saw the bright agony that burned in his eyes, even through the fury. "Sesshomaru, I –"

"Don't," he growled, and whirled away from her.

Only now did she begin to understand how deeply Sesshomaru hated her. After a long moment, Kagome retreated to the tree she had sought shelter beneath. She sat at the base, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She watched him for a long time, standing only a few yards away, staring at the sky. She could not have felt farther from him had they been separated by a continent.

She knew nothing of this man. And yet his kisses rendered her helpless as no weapon had ever done.

A daughter, she thought again. The Prince of Demons had a daughter. It had not been part of his legend. And somehow the thought made him more human. More touchable. Why would he bring his daughter, his most precious possession, into an enemy country? If she had children, she would see them safely tucked away in her father's castle.

Sesshomaru came and sat at the bottom of the tree next to her. He did not look at her, did not face her.

After a moment of silence, Kagome couldn't help asking, "What was she doing in The East?"

Sesshomaru turned his head to her, angered by her obtrusive questioning. His eyes burned into her and she felt his anger as if it were a slap in her face. He rose swiftly and marched again to his post before the stars.

Kagome pursued him. "She was so young. Surely it was not your idea –"

Sesshomaru whirled on her, his face a vicious snarl. "What better place for a warriors daughter than at her father's side?"

Kagome was horrified. "In the midst of war?"

He stepped toward her, his look dark and dangerous. "And you know so much about my life. Tell me, Priestess, would my daughter be happier enduring the ridicule and scorn of being a bastard, or fighting at her father's side? Was I to forsake my daughter, my only joy, when I believed the best place for her was with me?"

His voice softened suddenly and Kagome swore in the light of the moon she could see the shimmer of tears in his eyes. "She wanted to be an honorable knight, to fight a dragon, to lead an army for her king."

Kagome opened her mouth to answer, but Sesshomaru smashed his fist into a tree beside him, making her jump.

"What honor is there in being dead?" he demanded.

She shook her head slightly now, at a loss for words. The only honor in death was the honor one received in dying. And she had died in the fire. "What was she doing in my camp?" she wondered softly.

"Trying to save me," Sesshomaru answered bitterly.

Kagome stared hard at Sesshomaru. The girl had returned for her father. Kagome knew grown men who wouldn't do as much. She turned to gaze at the stars, as Sesshomaru had before her. There was honor in what the girl had done. And Kagome suddenly wished she had known her. "What was her name?" she asked.

"Rin," he replied hesitantly.

"She was a brave girl," she said. "You taught her well."

There was a long silence that stretched on. Finally, Sesshomaru muttered, "I will miss her."

Kagome wished with all her heart that she could take his pain into herself so that he would not have to feel it. She wished that she could make the girl live. Suddenly, an image rose before her eyes. The figure of a very young girl with hair as dark as midnight brandishing a wooden sword at a make-believe dragon. Sesshomaru's daughter. Kagome felt herself being swallowed up by his grief. She wanted to wipe away his torment with a caress, soothe his brow and his aching heart with her touch.

She turned to him to find his dark eyes looking at her, gazing at her so intently she could have sworn he saw through to her soul.

Kagome lifted a hand to place it his arm. His skin was hot beneath her palm.

Sesshomaru reached out with his other hand and took her free hand into his own.

His palm covered her hand totally. She stared at his skin, marveling at the warm, secure feeling that spiraled up through her. When she raised her gaze to his eyes, her heart skipped a beat and she parted her lips as if to speak, but no words came out.

He leaned forward, and Kagome thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her back and put his forehead on her shoulder.

He needed her to comfort him, not to love him. She wrapped her arms around him and, sighing softly, rested her cheek against his soft hair. She closed her eyes, holding Sesshomaru tightly.

"Isn't this a tender sight?" the French words intruded.

Kagome and Sesshomaru separated instantly. Her hand went automatically to her waist, only to come up empty.

"A lover's rendezvous." The man stepped out of the shadows of the trees, dressed in a dirty woolen tunic, ripped brown leggings, and a torn black cape. He looked like a nobleman turned beggar, Kagome thought. She noted the confidence with which he squared his shoulders, the ease with which he had surprised them…as if he had done it before. He was a thief. She knew it instinctively. Her eyes searched the dark shadows of the forest for more men, and for an avenue of escape.

There was movement to her right and she saw two more men rushing toward them. One was wearing only breeches with no shirt, and the other was very tall, with a thick black beard. She opened her mouth to shout a warning, but Sesshomaru had seen them. In one movement, he pulled her to his left and ducked as the shirtless attacker attempted to grab him; then he kicked the legs out from beneath the bearded man.

Kagome saw a shadow come alive. As he moved into the light of the moon, she could see his pockmarked and scarred face sneering as he raised a fist and swung, catching Sesshomaru in his already sore ribs. Sesshomaru doubled over as Kagome moved forward to help him.

The thief grabbed her right wrist as she pulled it back to land a blow to the scarred man's face. With a tug he spun her around, crushing her against his chest.

"Aim for his ribs," a voice advised from the darkness, and Kagome looked to see a fifth man emerge from the cover of the forest behind Sesshomaru. In the patchy moonlight shining through the leaves of the trees, his small, beady eyes reminded her of a rat.

The bearded man drew back a fist and Kagome shoved against her captor's chest, but could not break free. She watched helplessly as the blow to Sesshomaru's chin sent him sprawling.

Kagome twisted, trying to break free of the ex-nobleman's hold to get to Sesshomaru. She gasped as the shirtless man, the bearded man, and the scarred man converged on him. He went down, buried beneath a sea of bodies and blows. Kagome held her breath for a long moment. Then the shirtless man flew off the group, landing with a thud in the darkness. A fist cracked the bearded man's jaw and he stumbled back.

Sesshomaru rose before the scarred man like some sort of demon, his eyes glowing in the moonlight, his long hair a disheveled mass. The scarred man threw a punch. Sesshomaru caught the blow in his open palm, closing his fist around it. His opponent quaked and gaped at the Prince of Demons, his eyes going round with terror.

Suddenly from behind Sesshomaru the man with the rat eyes charged, hammering down upon his ribs with his fist. Sesshomaru stiffened as the blow hit him, then quickly recovered and whirled to face him. The man threw another blow to Sesshomaru's wounded middle and Sesshomaru staggered back, clutching at his sore ribs.

Kagome lifted her foot and brought it down hard on the ex-nobleman's toes. When her captor released her to grab at his foot, Kagome raced to Sesshomaru's side. She pulled him back away from rat eyes.

A sixth man, trembling with fright, stepped from the cover of the trees to the ex-nobleman's side, offering assistance. But the leader of the thieves pulled away sharply.

"Almost too late again, eh, Pigeon?" Rat eyes sneered at the cowardly new arrival.

Kagome cautiously eyed the group surrounding them as she held Sesshomaru's arm. There were six of them, and even though she and Sesshomaru were trained warriors, the numbers were not on their side.

"It's time we end this farce," the ex-nobleman stated.

The sound of metal sliding from metal rang through the night air as the scarred man and the shirtless man drew swords.

This doesn't help the numbers any, Kagome thought glumly, and moved closer to Sesshomaru's side.

* * *

Hey everyone sorry it took so long to update. Had some family issues to deal with. Still dealing with them. I will try to get a chapter up every few days just bear with me. We are house hunting and packing to move so free time is scarce. Please read and review. I love the feedback I have been getting.


	15. Chapter 14

Sesshomaru backed up a step, Kagome beside him, as the scarred man and the shirtless man approached, their blades gleaming in the light of the moon.

"You have fought well," the ex-nobleman said. "I only hope you know when to stop."

Sesshomaru straightened, refusing to be goaded back any further. He knew that Pigeon had moved around behind them to join the bearded man. When Sesshomaru stopped moving, they approached quickly, each seizing one of Sesshomaru's arms to effectively hold him prisoner.

Kagome turned as if to move to his aid, but Sesshomaru growled, "No." These men were not honorable. They were not knights, but a band of thieves.

Sesshomaru's side ached from the constant blows and he bent slightly over, favoring it. He heard footsteps approaching behind him before one of the thieves kicked him in the back. Pain exploded through his side and with a grunt, Sesshomaru fell to his hands and knees, arching his body to the side. The other thieves laughed. Sesshomaru gritted his teeth.

"Stop!" Kagome yelled in Eastern.

Sesshomaru silently cursed as the ex-nobleman's eyes shifted to her. She would tell him now. Tell him that she was the Priestess of Death and enlist their help to capture the Prince of Demons. He would be taken prisoner once again. And the accursed thieves would do anything for a warm meal and a large sum of gold. Damn, he thought, and bowed his forehead to the ground.

But her next words brought his head up sharply. "What do you want? We have no gold. No jewels."

"That is too bad," the ex-nobleman replied, with a look that sent a fire of protectiveness roaring to life inside Sesshomaru. Heat smoldered in the thief's eyes as he studied Kagome, and a hungry look spread over his face. Rage overtook Sesshomaru in a wave, smothering every other emotion. His entire body tensed.

"We cannot afford to waste our time in useless melees. Perhaps if you had told us in the beginning…" He shrugged. "We get something from every single encounter we have."

"We have nothing to give you," Kagome insisted.

"Oh, but you underestimate yourself," he said in a husky voice, and took a step toward her. The moonlight spilled over him, casting him in a strange white glow. His eyes, shadowed in darkness, looked evil.

Kagome flashed Sesshomaru a quick look. There was alarm in her moonlit eyes as well as determination.

Sesshomaru clenched his teeth and threw the ex-nobleman a hateful glare. "Touch her and you will die," he snarled.

Stunned silence filled the forest at his seemingly outrageous statement. Then a roar of laughter echoed in the night as each thief bellowed his disbelief.

"You would have to be a demon to do that," Rat Eyes snickered.

Sesshomaru felt the prod of a blade against his shoulder, but did not take his eyes from the ex-nobleman.

"Or be able to come back from the dead!" the shirtless man hollered.

"You've made a friend tonight, Holku!" Rat Eyes chuckled.

The ex-nobleman grinned. "I guess I can never have too many."

Instinct relaxed his muscles as Sesshomaru prepared for action. He knew exactly where each man stood without having to look. Pigeon and the bearded man held confident poses at either side of him, Rat Eyes lounged behind him, and the scarred man and shirtless man stood just before him with swords. Not one of these men was the object of Sesshomaru's heated gaze. His eyes were locked on Holku.

Then Sesshomaru heard the crunch of twigs behind him as Rat Eyes moved away from him and approached Kagome. Sesshomaru shot to his feet, only to be restrained again by Pigeon and the bearded man.

"Come, girl, give in and it will not be so rough on you," Holku hooted.

As he neared, Kagome lashed out with her foot, catching him in the groin. Sesshomaru knew a moment of satisfaction as Holku's assured stance crumbled and he fell forward to the ground, groaning. Kagome whirled – right into the arms of Rat Eyes! She struggled for a moment as he leered down at her before bringing her foot down on his toes. He cried out, grabbing his limb and hopping around. Kagome put both of her hands together and hit him hard across the face, knocking him back into a large bush.

Sesshomaru jerked forward, but the shirtless man pressed the tip of his sword to Sesshomaru's neck, stilling his efforts.

Pigeon roared with laughter, his gaze on Rat Eyes as he squirmed in the bush.

Quickly Holku got to his feet. Kagome turned, lurching away from him, but he reached out, seizing her long hair, and pulled her back to him. "Bitch," he snarled, gritting his teeth from the pain that still racked his body.

Every fiber in Sesshomaru's body froze as Holku raised his hand. When the blow struck Kagome so hard it sent her to the ground, Sesshomaru exploded. He easily pulled Pigeon, who was holding his right arm, into the shirtless man, knocking the blade from his neck. He lifted the bearded man and pushed him onto the tip of the scarred man's blade, impaling him. Sesshomaru whirled in time to dodge a thrust by the shirtless man, who had shoved Pigeon to the ground, and grabbed the thief's arm, quickly twisting it back and up. A loud crack filled the night air, and the shirtless man screeched in agony. The sword slipped out of the thief's hand to the ground, where Sesshomaru scooped it up and rushed to Kagome. He extended a hand, and when she took it, he pulled her to her feet.

Pigeon scrambled to his feet, a blade in his hand. The scarred man pulled his weapon free of the body lying in a lump on the ground. Rat Eyes freed himself from the hand-like thorns of the bush and reached for his belt to pull his weapon free.

Sesshomaru pulled Kagome behind him as the three men approached, spreading out around them.

"We can take him," Holku assured his men.

Sesshomaru's gaze locked on him. Instinct guided his movements in the dark, his senses heightened beyond intuition. He knew that Pigeon and the scarred man were preparing to come at him from their position on his far left and his far right. Fools, he thought. They do not know who they dare stand against.

The shirtless man groaned in pain just before they rushed Sesshomaru.

Sesshomaru quickly stepped towards Pigeon's raised sword, parrying the thrust and countering with one of his own that struck flesh. Before the man had completely fallen, Sesshomaru whirled just in time to sidestep the scarred man's arc. His blade hit the earth and Sesshomaru brought his sword around, meaning to slice the man in two. But the scarred man was quick, ducking Sesshomaru's swing and whirling away. Sesshomaru heard the whoosh of a sword and turned –

\- in time to see Rat Eyes thrusting his sword at his chest!

Sesshomaru braced for the impact, instinctively bringing his sword up, knowing there was no time to block the blow. Then he heard it, the clang of metal against metal. The blade never touched his skin. It had been knocked away!

Kagome stood beside Sesshomaru, a sword in her hand. She stepped in front of him to take Rat Eyes' next swing. Outrage engulfed Sesshomaru. I should be the one rescuing her! he thought. But he didn't have time to berate Kagome, as he had to shift his stance to block another swing. He backed up slightly and bumped Kagome. Despite being embroiled in a swordfight for their very lives, Sesshomaru felt a strong tingling race through him as Kagome's back brushed his. Even in the midst of battle, she stirs my soul, he thought. He crossed swords with the scarred man and intercepted a second swing from him before knocking his blade aside and thrusting, catching the thief squarely in the chest. As the scarred man slid to the ground, Sesshomaru's eyes searched the shadow for Holku. He spotted the coward turning and disappearing into the forest, the glint of a polished sword in his hand.

Sesshomaru turned to glance once at Kagome. She was more than holding her own. Rat Eyes was breathing hard and was tiring under her constant and expert barrage.

Sesshomaru took off after the leader of the thieves. He moved like a great wolf, silently, stealthily through the forest, his eyes never wavering from the figure before him. He easily marked his victim's way with the help of the moon's light. Soon, Holku began to tire and a slow smile slid over Sesshomaru's face as he quickly overtook him, circling around the forest in front of him.

When the thief reached the spot where Sesshomaru waited, Sesshomaru stepped out of the shadows like a phantom. Holku reared back, raising his sword.

An anger so intense it threatened to sweep Sesshomaru away flooded through him as his mind replayed over and over the image of the man striking Kagome.

"Who are you?" Holku demanded.

Sesshomaru stalked closer as the man continued to back away. The thief opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a sound, Sesshomaru's hand closed around his throat. Holku raised his sword arm, but Sesshomaru grabbed his wrist, easily holding it at bay.

"I am the Prince of Demons," Sesshomaru sneered into his pale face. "By striking the Priestess of Death, you have forfeited your life to me."

* * *

Kagome rubbed her left arm. It was bleeding again. But she ignored the throbbing, her mind on Sesshomaru. She glanced into the dark forest. Damn, she thought. I have lost him. He ran when I was defending myself. The ignoble lout. Still, her eyes nervously swept the shadowy trees and foliage again. Where was he? Was he hurt?

She heard a crackle of twigs behind her and spun, raising her sword, to face Sesshomaru! Relief surged through her body and she visibly sighed. Then her brows furrowed as an irrational anger washed over her, drowning her relief.

He looked startled at seeing the sword at his chest, and just as the thought that she could take him prisoner jumped into her head, he easily pushed the sword aside with his bare hand.

"Where have you been?" she demanded.

An amused look crossed his face. "I didn't know I had to answer to you," he replied. He glanced at the sword she held.

Kagome looked down at it. He was going to demand she give it up. Not likely! she thought, preparing for a battle.

"We make a good team. Too bad we are on opposite sides in this war." He stepped past her to survey the body of Rat Eyes, which was sprawled on the ground. "You should keep the sword," he said. "If we come up against more thieves, it would be best if you could defend yourself."

* * *

Kagome looked down at the sword in her hand, dumbfounded. Didn't he want to hold her prisoner anymore? Was this his way of paying her back for saving his life? Or was this some sort of test? Kagome glanced up at him. The moonlight washed over the strong sinews of his neck, down his rippling shoulder muscles. I can take him now, she thought. I could club him over the head and drag him back to camp. Who am I fooling? I cannot lift him.

And I cannot hurt him.

The last thought stunned her.

A shadow separated from the rest of the shadows that surrounded them and moved swiftly past her. Before she could react, there was a dull thud and then Sesshomaru was falling to the ground. Kagome whirled, bringing up her sword, to see the silhouette of a man standing beside her, a sword in his hand. His face was dark and Kagome peered closer, clenching the hilt of her own weapon.

"Good eve, m'lady," he stated in Eastern.

Kagome gasped, as she recognized him – her soldier who had captured the English spy! His white skin was hidden beneath a layer of mud; his clothing was all black.

Miroku Hoshi grinned and his white teeth caught and reflected the moonlight.

"How did you -?" she began.

"I have been tracking you," he stated simply.

His unwavering gaze unnerved her and she glanced at Sesshomaru sprawled on the ground. She wanted to go to him but could not with Miroku standing there.

"I have two horses not far from here," he said.

Sesshomaru was her prisoner once again. The thought should have brought relief, but instead it brought a feeling of anxiety…something bordering on panic.

"Your brothers will be happy to see you."

"Yes. Well done," she murmured without emotion.

* * *

Hey all. Sorry for the long wait. I was working with my dad trying to clean out a storage shed. And now I seem to have come down with one hell of a cold. But I hadnt updated in so long that I wanted to get at least one chapter up so you would know that I haven't forgotten about you all. So Here is the next installment of The Demon and the Priestess. . . . . Please read and review as always . . . . DemonicPriestessOfBalance


	16. Chapter 15

A constant pounding greeted Sesshomaru as he opened his eyes. It took him only a moment to realize that the incessant throbbing was coming from inside his head. He tried to lift a hand to his temple to ease the pain, but his arm wouldn't move; his wrists were chained tightly behind his back. Sesshomaru struggled to a sitting position using his elbow to prop himself up.

"Welcome back," a voice hailed from the darkness.

Sesshomaru turned toward the voice in time to see Sota stepping into the light of a candle that burned hotly inside the tent he now realized he was trapped in. Sesshomaru's eyes narrowed instantly. A prisoner again, he thought. God's blood, the bitch had no morals. She hit me over the head the instant I wasn't looking! And I gave her the weapon! Will I ever learn not to underestimate her? He silently cursed himself.

"By now you must realize how futile any attempt at escape would be."

Sesshomaru's eyes shifted to Sota. What did this blabbering idiot want? To gloat? He clenched his jaw.

"You can't escape from the East. We're far more intelligent than you."

"I would describe you in many way, but intelligent never came to mind," Sesshomaru murmured. He watched the hate and anger rise in Sota's scowling brows and tightening lips. Slowly the man's face was turning red. Sesshomaru knew that he would be smart to keep his mouth shut, especially with his arms chained. The man was like a coiled snake, ready to bite at the slightest provocation. "Fool was the first description I thought of," Sesshomaru couldn't resist adding.

"It's a shame you won't be returning to England to give your somewhat twisted portrayal of a Frenchman," Sota sneered, "since you'll be burned when we reach De Higurashi Castle."

Sesshomaru felt his fists clenching. All he had to do was say the right thing and this fool would be at his throat. It would be just what I deserve for trusting the wench, Sesshomaru thought. A good thrashing would set my head straight.

The image of Kagome's argument with Sota in the field immediately came to mind. "I wouldn't bet on it. Kagome will get me out of it…any way she can."

"What do you mean?" Sota ground out.

Sesshomaru could see the flames in Sota's blue eyes, feel the heat of his anger. "I think you know."

The first blow hit Sesshomaru's jaw and knocked him back to the floor…

* * *

"He could have hurt you," Kohaku stated from his bent position over her arm. "You were a fool to chase after him."

Kagome was seated on a chair in the middle of her tent, a small table with a basin of water beside her. Kohaku was carefully stitching her wound closed. The light from a red candle washed over her skin like blood as he worked in the dark tent.

"I wasn't going to let him escape," Kagome insisted. She winced as he pulled a stitch through. "Not after everything I've gone through to capture him. Do you know what Mother would have said?"

Kohaku stared long and hard at her. "You didn't want him to go."

"Of course not. He's England's most beloved hero. I would have been labeled the woman who lost the Prince of Demons."

"That's not what I meant."

Kagome watched him in confusion. A feeling of unease spread from her lower stomach up her back to settle at her shoulders. Finally, she turned away from him. "I don't know what you mean."

Kohaku finished up the stitch and tied a knot. "Oh, I think you do. Kagome, good Lord! You don't use common sense anymore, not where he's concerned. Do you know what's happening to you?" He stepped away from her, dipping his hands in the basin of water to wash off the blood.

"I got him back, didn't I?"

The flap swooshed open and Sota entered, his dark features etched with concern. "Are you all right, Kagome?"

She glowered at Kohaku a moment longer before turning to Sota. "Yes, I'm fine."

Sota stopped short of taking her in his arms, but held her at arm's length and looked her face over, searching it as if for any sign of abuse.

"I'm fine," Kagome insisted.

"You had us worried to death," Sota stated.

Kagome grinned at him and dropped her eyes. "I –" She paused, noticing a spot of red on his white tunic and raised a finger to it. "What's this?"

Sota looked down and quickly stepped away before she could touch it.

Kagome glanced up into his blue eyes, slowly dropping her hand. When he didn't answer, understanding slowly filtered through her ignorance, followed closely by outrage. "You didn't!"

She bolted from the tent, running through the camp. Her knights stopped their arguing and chess playing to glance up as she dashed past them. She flitted around tents and leapt over sleeping men until she reached the prisoner tents. She startled the two guards who stood before one of the tents in mid-snicker, bursting inside to see Sesshomaru lying on his side, curled up on the ground. His hands were bound behind his back. Kagome could see that his lip was bleeding, as was his nose. Her heart ached and she felt despair as she had never felt it before. She dropped to her knees beside him. "What has he done to you?" she whispered.

Kagome heard the flap open and whirled. Sota entered the tent. She shot to her feet, her fists clenched in rage. "Get out!"

"He deserves much worse than that," Sota snarled.

"Get out!" Kagome screamed.

Sota's dark blue eyes locked on her, his jaw clenching. Then, he spun, pushing past Kohaku who was just entering the tent.

Kagome turned back to Sesshomaru. She knelt and reached over him to undo the manacles that bound his wrists.

"Kagome," Kohaku called. "You shouldn't –"

"He saved my life," she said emphatically. She flung the shackles at Kohaku's feet. "You would think that would be worth something." She turned her gaze to Sesshomaru, carefully pushing him onto his back. He groaned softly, his eyes fluttering open. When he saw her, his lip curled into a grin.

"Couldn't stay away?" he murmured with a soft chuckle.

"Don't talk," she said. "Get me water and a cloth," Kagome called to Kohaku, not taking her concerned gaze from the wounded knight before her. Kagome's hands skimmed Sesshomaru's stomach, his already bruised ribs. Then her hands fluttered over his strong arms, his legs. Nothing. Nothing was broken. She breathed a sigh of relief and sat back on her heels.

"I don't think your brother likes me," Sesshomaru said.

The light from the flickering candle cast a halo of light around his body, making it appear as if the fire were raging within him. She stared at him for a long moment before dropping her gaze.

Kohaku returned with a basin of water and some cloth, which he set at her side.

"You may leave us," she commanded.

"He's your enemy," Kohaku whispered. "Never forget that." Then he turned and went out of the tent, leaving them alone.

* * *

Kagome soaked a cloth in the basin of water, then reached for Sesshomaru's face…and froze. The impulse to ease his hurt had been so natural. She had tended her father's wounds when she was younger and her brothers as she grew. But this, this was Sesshomaru, not her brethren, not her family. He was her prisoner. Slowly she touched his face, carefully wiping the blood from his lip, and found that her hand was trembling. She willed the shaking to cease, but her fingers shivered as she began to wipe away more blood. As she drew the wet cloth across his mouth and watched his lips emerge, she recalled the fierce fire those lips ignited inside of her.

She ran the cloth gently across his forehead, all the while staring at his handsome face, a face marred by the wound she had inflicted, a bruise on his cheek and a light bruise above one brow. Her gaze dropped to his naked chest. It gleamed with perspiration in the candlelight, his stomach flat and lined with muscles. She wanted to touch him, to run her fingers over his smooth skin, skin that housed fire beneath its burning surface.

Embarrassed and frightened by these forbidden emotions, she lowered her gaze unwittingly to the part of him that had joined them in their lovemaking. Even covered by his leggings, it was huge. She turned quickly away only to meet his dark eyes. Kagome froze for a moment. Did he know what she was thinking? She could not meet his gaze and dropped her eyes immediately, turning away to dip the cloth into the cool water. As she wrung out the wet cloth, she couldn't erase the feeling of embarrassment that flamed her cheeks.

I am bringing him back to Mother, she thought. That is why I would not leave Sesshomaru in the forest. That is the reason why I ran after him. The only reason.

When she turned back to him, she saw the narrowing of his eyes as he regarded her and the change in his flippant countenance to a more quiet and pensive mood. Kagome reached up to the bruise that was turning a purplish color on his cheek. As she brushed over it with the cloth, she saw his jaw clench before he reached up and grabbed her hand, pulling it away from his face.

Her eyes locked with his gold, mysterious orbs.

"I will never forgive you for the life of my daughter," he stated quietly.

Kagome dropped her eyes. It had not been her fault. But she understood that it was necessary to blame someone. If it would ease his pain, then she would take the responsibility. "I know," she murmured.

The silence stretched on in the small tent. Kagome knew the sounds of the camp were around her, the distant chatter of conversation, the ping-ping of the blacksmith's hammer. But she heard nothing but the beating of her heart. Then she felt his fingers squeezing hers and realized that he was still holding her hand. The grip became painful, and she looked up. His eyes were like an abyss, drawing her closer and closer. She felt him leaning into her and closed her eyes in anticipation of the feel of his lips on hers.

Suddenly the tent flap whipped open and Sota stepped in. "Kagome, I thin…"

Kagome jumped away from Sesshomaru quickly, shooting to her feet.

Sota stood for a moment without moving.

Kagome could not look at him. She knew he would read the guilt on her face. "Yes?" she asked.

Slowly, Sota pulled his sword from its sheath, the metal hissing like a snake as it emerged from its protective covering.

Kagome stepped toward him. "What do you think you're doing?"

Sota's turbulent brown eyes slashed past Kagome to Sesshomaru. "Stand aside, Kagome!" he roared.

She found herself trapped between the two of them. "He is unarmed!" she cried. "Would you run him through without a chance to defend himself? It would not be honorable!"

His burning gaze shifted to her and Kagome saw resentment there. "Then you deny he was trying to rape you?" His voice was thick with rage.

It took a moment for the meaning of his words to sink in. Sota had convinced himself that she would not touch an enemy. He was protecting her reputation! He was trying to shield the family name from scandal while achieving his goal of killing Sesshomaru. Panic seized her and she had to fight to control the alarm that sliced through her. "Yes!"

"You stand there and tell me that what I saw was you willingly embracing our enemy?"

Kagome raised her chin in defiance, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"And if I had been a moment later, would you have parted your thighs for him, too?" Sota snarled and shoved her roughly aside.

Kagome fell to her hands and knees. She heard Sesshomaru say, "It will not be as easy this time. Are you sure you do not want to bind my hands again so I won't scar that pretty face of yours?"

Kagome heard a thud as Sesshomaru and Sota's bodies hit the ground. Their arms were entwined like those of lovers, but their faces were grimacing with hate. Sesshomaru held Sota's sword arm away from him as they rolled across the floor.

Kagome stood slowly, her knees shaking. She saw Sesshomaru bash Sota's hand against the ground until the sword jarred free. Sota threw a blow to the side of Sesshomaru's head that sent him flying.

As Sota stood, Kagome launched herself at him, jumping onto his back, locking her arms around his neck. Sota had always been able to beat Kagome in play fights, and this was no exception, especially since he wasn't playing. He grabbed hold of her tunic and pulled her over his head, sending her whirling into the canvas wall. "I would rather kill you myself than see you in his arms," Sota threatened hotly, and spun away from her.

Sesshomaru climbed to his feet and was greeted by a fist to the chin. He staggered back.

Kagome shook her head, trying to clear her vision. As Sota went after Sesshomaru, Kagome desperately threw herself at Sota in an attempt to separate them, but Sota pushed her back again. She felt herself falling, but Sesshomaru's arms wrapped around her, and he gently set her out of the way.

Kagome saw Sota dive toward Sesshomaru and barely had time to shout a warning before Sota hit him, pushing him back away from Kagome. Sesshomaru absorbed two blows to his ribs and one to his cheek before he threw a fist into Sota's neck. The man went down in a heap of gags and coughs and Sesshomaru pursued him to the ground, raining blow upon blow on his adversary.

Kohaku rushed in, flanked by two knights. They pulled Sesshomaru from Sota who lay unconscious on the ground, his face a mask of blood. Sesshomaru was shaking all over, his fists clenched at his sides. He fought to free himself, struggling with the knights who held his arms. Two more knights rushed in to help subdue the Prince of Demons.

Kagome knelt at Sota's side. She could see his chest rising and falling with his breath. Thank God, she thought, before turning her eyes to Sesshomaru. He was wild, twisting and turning in their hold, his strong muscles straining beneath their grips.

"Get him to the other tent. Chain him well," Kohaku ordered.

Kagome watched in anguish as they dragged Sesshomaru from the tent, then dropped her head into the crook of her arm. Fool! she berated herself. What was I thinking, wanting him to kiss me here in the prisoner's tent? Sota knows now. And he will do everything in his power to hurt Sesshomaru. Or to kill him.


	17. Chapter 16

Sesshomaru rode beside Kagome as the Eastern troops entered the town, his wrists and ankles bound tightly by metal chains. Cheers deafened him. It seemed every villager had come out to welcome the army home, the loud, excited voices filling the air with an unintelligible babble. Women raced up to the mounted knights and handed them bouquets of brightly colored flowers. Small children ran ahead of the horses, shouting the knights' arrival. Still more people crowded into the already packed street to watch the procession.

And to watch Kagome. She was the pride of every villager there, showered with rose petals and looks of adoration as if she were some sort of heavenly goddess, some sort of…Goddess.

Sesshomaru studied their faces, the love in the peasants' eyes, and the loathing when their eyes turned to him. He was amazed at how neat and clean the people were. Why, in the village of Moonlight Castle, there were children who could barely walk because they wore shirts ten times too big for them. And there wasn't a man who did not have the knee or elbow ripped on his tunic or hose. Sesshomaru straightened. His people just worked harder. His eyes scanned the shadows of the streets. Every village had its beggars or lepers who lurked in the shadows, hoping for a handout. He scowled slightly, trying to peer into each doorway they passed, behind each barrel, but try as he might, he could see no beggars! Not one. They must be here somewhere, he thought. As his eyes swept over the people, he noticed something else. They all looked healthy, well fed but not fat. His mind thought back to his own people, women who could barely keep their clothing from falling off their thin bodies, old men who looked like skeletons. He scowled.

Sesshomaru received his share of curses and laughter. As a cold stare in the direction of the offender would silence him, more laughter would assault him from a different direction. I was caught by a woman, he told himself. Twice! They should laugh. But this is no ordinary woman, he thought. She betrays me with a club to my head. All I wanted was for her to be safe from thieves and the like. The thought of what those men could have done to her makes me sick. Then, she hit me from behind. I should have expected as much. I was a fool to have given my trust so easily.

Fury rose in his throat like bile. He wanted to vent his anger on someone, something. He needed to release his rage, but the cold chains around his wrists restrained any strong action.

Unseen by Sesshomaru, a small boy, standing farther up the narrow street, bent down and scooped up a handful of mud.

Sesshomaru wanted to wipe the smirk from Kagome's face. She didn't have to enjoy his misery so much. He glanced up at the castle ahead. The drawbridge was lowered, the portcullis raised. The entrance was black with shadow – the mouth of a hungry beast, he thought, waiting to devour me.

The boy packed the mud ball tightly in his palm. He tossed the compacted dirt from one hand to the other, impatiently fidgeting from one foot to the other.

Sesshomaru shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. His thoughts raced from one possible escape to the next. He should try and make some kind of break before he passed under the sharp teeth of the castle's mouth, before he rode through the jagged shadows thrown by the portcullis, before he was trapped.

The boy grinned, pleased with his plan. He was going to get the bad man. Hit him right in the face. He had heard many stories about the bad man. Stories that made him tremble in the middle of the night. Stories that made him feel very afraid. The boy did not like to feel afraid. This would be his chance to strike back at the bad man. He packed the mud ball even tighter.

Sesshomaru glanced into the side streets, waiting for the right moment. But all he saw were throngs of people. Malevolent faces stared, casting hate and loathing at him from every direction.

The boy saw the horses approaching down the street, saw the bad man sitting on one. The fear came upon him like a tornado, swirling around him, making his fingers tremble as he clutched the ball of mud. He couldn't do it. The bad man would come after him.

Sesshomaru was surrounded by the enemy. He had never felt more trapped in his life. He had never felt more desperate.

The boy suddenly realized that he was surrounded by people, by guards with weapons. The bad man couldn't get him. The guards wouldn't let him. He raised his arm, pulled it back and threw, hurling the mud ball at the bad man. The clump of moist dirt sailed through the air, moving fast toward its target.

The boy's aim was off the mark.

Kagome turned as her eyes caught a sudden movement, but she didn't have time to react. The mud ball moved straight for her face.

Sesshomaru saw it coming a moment before Kagome. He reacted quickly, raising his hand to catch it.

The crowd suddenly grew very silent, thinking the Prince of Demons was about to strike their Priestess. A guard instinctively turned his weapon toward Sesshomaru.

The mud ball struck Sesshomaru's palm square in the middle, hitting it with a resounding smack . He closed his fingers around it and pulled his hand back from Kagome's face.

Kagome stared in wonderment as Sesshomaru showed her the flattened pancake of mud in his hand.

"I'm sure it was meant for me," he whispered to her, then let the mud ball slip from his fingers to the ground.

Sesshomaru watched her struggle with her emotions. Her full lips parted as if to speak, but then closed again. Not even a smile, Sesshomaru thought with bitterness. But what had he expected? "We can't have you looking all dirty, now can we?" he added.

Kagome's jaw tightened and she spurred her horse on, leading her army toward the castle.

As they approached, Sesshomaru watched his hope of escape dissolve as the guards from the castle rushed out to greet them. With the guards came women who eagerly ran to embrace husbands or sons. The well-armed men closed in around his horse, separating him from Kagome.

The moat, he noticed as they crossed the wooden plank, looked deep and slimy. He wondered briefly if he could swim it.

Sesshomaru was led under the portcullis, its jagged spear-like frame pointing at his head as the mount led him beneath it, threatening to crush him beneath its spikes. His horse stopped in the middle of a large square and he glanced up. Her castle was smaller than his by far. Its towers were rounded where his were square. But it was immaculately well cared for. He remembered once returning home to see that one of the inner courtyard walls of his castle had crumbled. It wasn't that there was no gold to repair it, it was just that his steward was a practical man, more concerned with keeping the castle properly armed and stocked with food supplies in case of a siege than with its appearance.

Sesshomaru did not fight as hands reached up to pull him from the horse. Guards surrounded him and pushed him toward the castle. He paused before the great double doors to look back at Kagome. She was patting the neck of her warhorse. Sesshomaru wondered where her greeting party was. Had she no one to welcome her home? Then bitterness replaced his confusion. She did not even notice he was gone.

* * *

Kagome nuzzled her horse affectionately, burying her face in his white mane. He whinnied in response, nudging her shoulder. Kagome relinquished the reins of her horse to her squire and turned, searching for Sesshomaru. His mount was empty! Kagome knew instinctively where he had been taken. The dungeon. The thought of him locked in the gloomy, damp, rodent-infested prison made her cringe. She started to follow, thinking to stop them from throwing him into such a horrible place. Then she stopped dead in her tracks. Such an act would border on treason. He was a prisoner. He belonged in the dungeon. Her heart sank to the depths of the castle with him.

Suddenly, she almost fell over as a little whirlwind ran into her, throwing her arms around her. "Kagome!" the voice cried in jubilation. Kagome pried herself free from the embrace and stepped back to stare into wide brown eyes.

"My Lord," Kagome gasped.

The girl giggled, covering her mouth with a small hand. "Please! Don't greet me as though I am a stranger! I couldn't bear it!"

Kagome could not catch her breath. Could this be Kikyo? Could this be her little sister? Have five years changed her so much I would not recognize her walking down a street? Kagome wondered. Kikyo had grown up. Her hair had changed from straggly black frizzy wire to long luscious waves of ebony. Her skin was flawless, almost luminescent. Was this little Kikyo, the girl who teased me about masquerading as a boy? "You've changed," Kagome muttered.

"I should hope so! It has been a long time! I never have forgiven you for missing my wedding," Kikyo pouted.

"I'm very sorry, Kikyo. But I could not leave the siege. I tried to finish it before then. I lost twenty men rushing the castle," Kagome stated.

"Pooh. Don't talk of war. You know how it bores me. But the silks you sent from Paris. That was really too much, Kagome. They are so lovely that I couldn't help but make you a dress."

Kagome groaned inwardly. Dresses were confining and even burdensome. "They were for you, Kikyo. You didn't have to go to the trouble –"

"It was no trouble at all. I've become quite good, you know. InuYasha says that I am the best dressmaker in all of the Eastern Lands. I believe he is exaggerating."

"You're happy, then?" Kagome asked sincerely.

Kikyo nodded and a dreamy smile touched her lips. "I am very lucky that Mother allowed me to choose. She will do the same for you someday."

"Where is Mother?" Kagome raised her eyes to scan the crowd.

"Oh, you know Mother. She had to see Kohaku and Sota."

Kagome's bubble of hope burst. "Yes. I know Mother," she replied dully.

"Don't look so sad. Not on a day as wonderful as this. You've come home to us." Kikyo seized Kagome's arm and began to tug her toward the castle. "Come. You must meet InuYasha. And you really have to tell me all about this Prince of Demons."

* * *

As Kikyo led her into the castle, Kagome was struck by the odd feeling that she was a stranger here. Nothing had changed, the entranceway was exactly the same as it had been, but there were little things that were proof of how long she had been away. She stopped at a tapestry hanging on the wall that depicted a knight with the De Higurashi coat of arms on his shield. She inspected the picture. An western knight was dead beneath the foot of the knight. A stream of blood ran from the fatal wound in the fallen knight's chest. "When was this hung?" Kagome wondered.

Kikyo flicked her wrist, dismissive. "It's been here forever." She continued down the hall, holding her sister's arm tightly.

They rounded the corner and walked through the open doors to the Great Hall. Kikyo finally released Kagome's arm and ran across the great room to throw herself at a tall, silver haired man standing near the fireplace, drinking and speaking earnestly with another man.

Kagome allowed her eyes to wander. The large room was in order, clean rushes on the floor, ale on the tables. A huge arced opening gave the room character and decoration. There were five entrances, each lit by two torches. The two arched entryways near the lord's table led to the upper levels and the bedrooms. The two opposite her led to the kitchens. Servants dashed in and out of the entrances to the kitchen and Kagome could smell the roasting duck. Some of the peasants she recognized, some she did not. But Kagome noticed with a bit of annoyance that all were casting glances in her direction. She stood forlornly in the doorway of the Great Hall, searching the hallway for any sign of her Mother. Finally, Kikyo and InuYasha approached her.

Kagome took a quick moment to study them. They were both fashionably dressed, InuYasha in a red jupon with elaborate gold leaf embroidery on the breast. The jacket just covered his hips. It is shorter than my tunic, Kagome thought with shock. Could this truly be the latest style?

Kikyo wore a houppelande that fell in voluminous velvet to the floor. The green material was secured just under her breasts by a brown belt. For the first time, Kagome felt out of place in full plate armor.

InuYasha extended his hand in welcome. Kagome clasped his arm in the usual warrior greeting and she noticed the surprise that splashed over his features for the briefest of seconds. She withdrew her hand.

"I am pleased to finally meet you," he said uneasily. "I have heard much of your brave deeds."

Kagome forced a smile to her lips and cast a glance over her shoulder, anxiously looking for her Mother. But the hallway remained empty.

InuYasha glanced at Kikyo. She set her arm on his shoulder. "InuYasha, you mustn't flatter Kagome. She doesn't like to be complimented. I have told her numerous times that she has lovely hair and she should leave it down. After all, if one doesn't make oneself pretty, one will not be betrothed to the man of one's dreams."

"I do not wish to be betrothed to anyone," Kagome answered. She turned her gaze to Kikyo to find her staring at her husband. For a moment, Kagome wondered what it would be like to live with a man she loved. Would Sesshomaru gaze at her with the obvious adoration that InuYasha showed Kikyo? Where had that thought come from? she wondered, abashed.

Kikyo's smile was instantaneous. "You've always said that. But one of these days, the right man will come to you and you will not be able to imagine life without him. Just as I have InuYasha."

Kagome quickly looked away, down the hall. An uneasy feeling stirred in her stomach. Had she already found the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with? She could not forget how it felt when he kissed her. And yet when she thought of a life with Sesshomaru, perhaps a castle of their own, she knew it was only fantasy. He hated her. Still…

"Where is Mother?" she asked, attributing the anxious feeling to her Mother's absence.

"She will be here," Kikyo said. "Come, sit by the fire."

Kagome cast one last look down the hallway. She could still hear the sounds of laughter and shouts of delight as wives, husbands, sons and daughters found each other. But she did not see her Mother. She would find her. If she left the hallway to sit by the fire, she would still come. Kagome removed her leather gloves and followed Kikyo and InuYasha. A young girl appeared at her side, offering a goblet of ale. As Kagome shook her head, she noticed the fear and awe in the girl's large green eyes before she bowed her head and backed away.

* * *

The Great Hall was emptying and Kagome knew it was because most of the servants were headed outside. As she reached the warmth of the fire, she heard her voice boom across the hall.

"Could that be my little Kagome?"

Utter joy raced through her body as she turned. Sango Taija De Higurashi strolled across the room toward her, her arms outstretched. Kagome's heart filled with happiness and she threw herself into those arms. Even though she wore armor, she could feel her Mother's strength as she crushed her in a powerful hug. She returned it wholeheartedly, reveling in the feeling of her embrace. Kagome knew she would be proud of her. She would look into her eyes and see the respect she had neglected to show her. She pulled back and her eyes bore into hers, a smile lingering in the depths of those brown eyes. Although so many things had changed in the castle, she hadn't. Those warm eyes were the same ones that had smiled on her all those years ago; those lips the same ones that had whispered words of comfort when she had fallen.

"Oh, Mother!" Kagome exclaimed. "We took their army completely by surprise! We routed the Westerners and –"

Sango Taija patted his daughter on the head, nodding patiently. "Don't worry yourself with matters of war now. You are home."

"But Mother, I captured the Prince of Demons," Kagome said, the happiness slowly draining from her.

"Yes. I know, child. And I look forward to seeing him."

"I made him tell me of King Tashio and his Western army. They are coming to The Eastern Lands!"

Kikyo gasped and buried her face in InuYasha's chest.

Sango Taija scowled at Kagome. "You are frightening your sister. That is enough. Go change into proper clothing for our meal."

Kagome felt a hot flush creep up her neck to her cheeks. Sango Taija stood a hand's width taller than most Easternmen, and even taller in Kagome's eyes. She did not move, and finally, Sango Taija turned her eyes from her to Kikyo. A serene smile inched over her lips and she said, "Kikyo, show Kagome the new fashions. Perhaps she would like to wear one of your dresses to dinner."

Kikyo relaxed, pushing aside her fear. "Oh, yes. You can wear the dress I made for you."

Kagome sank into despair. She allowed Kikyo to lead her across the room to the stairs.

As she reached the cold stone steps, she paused to look back at her Mother. Her elegant blue velvet tunic shone softly in the lighting from the fire as she approached the door. Sota was entering, and Kagome felt a moment of fear that made her falter. Would Sota tell her Mother about her and Sesshomaru? Even from this distance, she could see the bruises on Sota's brow and cheek, his swollen lip.

Sota looked around the room and his gaze halted on her. She saw his back straighten and felt the anger in his stare.

Her Mother's voice boomed across the room. "Sota! You must tell me the tale of the capture of the Prince of Demons!"

Kagome turned her back on them. Sota would say nothing. It would only cause Mother heartache and bring scandal to the family name.

"I hear tell that the Westerners are approaching The eastern Boarder," Sango Taija continued.

Kagome mounted the steps, her heart breaking.


	18. Chapter 17

Kikyo fluttered around the room like a bird, preparing Kagome's clothing as if she were making a nest. She dashed to the wardrobe and pulled out a scarf, then flittered to the hand mirror on the table. She held the scarf to her neck and gazed at herself in the mirror, silently shaking her head. She put the mirror down and rushed back to the closet to toss the scarf inside. She began to rummage through piles of jewelry, holding a piece up to her neck and then, frowning, putting it back.

Kagome sat on her canopied bed and stared at her folded hands that lay listlessly in her lap. Why was she the only one she had never been able to stand up to? Why couldn't she demand the respect she deserved? Why had she allowed herself to be swept aside like so much dirt? Kagome groaned and ran her fingers through her hair, burying her face in her hands. Because she was her Mother!

"Why, Kagome you haven't even begun to remove your armor," Kikyo said, sitting beside her, holding a sapphire necklace.

Kagome turned her face away from Kikyo. She wished her sister would leave her in peace just this once.

"Tell me how you captured the Prince of Demons," Kikyo asked with a touch of sympathy in her voice.

Kagome separated her fingers to peek out at her sister in disbelief. "Kikyo, you couldn't even bear to hear that the Westerners were coming. How could you listen to the tale of how I captured Sesshomaru?"

"Sesshomaru?"

Kagome dropped her hands with a sigh. "The Prince of Demons."

Kikyo was silent for a long moment and Kagome felt her gaze upon her. Finally, Kikyo patted Kagome's wrist and jumped up. "I will show you the dress. It will make you feel better."

Kagome stood, her jaw clenched. "I don't care about the dress!" Kikyo turned to her, and Kagome saw the hurt in her expressive eyes. She immediately regretted her harsh words and continued more softly, "Not now. I want to know why Mother doesn't listen to what I have to say."

Kikyo smiled. "Because you're a woman."

Kagome sighed. It was the one thing in her life that she couldn't change.

"Don't be sad, Kagome. We'll have a grand time. Did you know that the Duke of Le Mans is here?"

"No."

"We're in very good company tonight. The Count of Sens is also here. They came to see the Prince of Demons. It appears the fiend has a reputation."

Kagome's brows furrowed. "What do they want with him?"

Kikyo shrugged her dainty shoulders as she turned to sort through her wardrobe closet. "All I know is that Mother is planning a…well, a sort of reception for him. I must tell you that I am very excited to see him. They say that a mere look from him will sentence a maiden's heart to burn –"

"A reception?" Kagome wondered quietly.

Kikyo placed her hands on her hips as she turned to Kagome. "Really, Kagome. You must learn to listen when others speak. Yes. A reception. Apparently, Mother has some sort of surprise in store for our enemy."

Kagome felt a cold chill of dread creep up her spine.

* * *

Kagome was a vision of femininity as she stood at the bottom of the stairs that led from the bedchambers to the Great Hall. And she hated it! The full chemise and heavy velvets of the dress's skirt swirled about her legs and inhibited her steps. She felt constrained by the corset Kikyo insisted she wear beneath her chemise, to accent her feminine attributes, as she put it. The corset was so stiff, Kagome felt as though she could not bend. But she had worn it for Kikyo. Then, her sister had helped her don the long, dark blue gown. Kagome was appalled at how it was fitted to her body, not at all like her tunics. And the wide, open neckline was so…revealing! Over this, Kagome wore a sideless surcoat made of velvet that had armholes that reached to her hips. Kikyo had giggled when Kagome swore the thing was going to fall right off her body! Kikyo fastened the surcoat to the gown with buttons that were hidden beneath the fur that edged the neck and armholes, assuring Kagome the buttons would hold it on.

The final straw was the headdress. Kikyo had pulled out this monstrous-looking thing with horns! Kagome had reared back and absolutely refused to wear it. She insisted that her hair be left down.

With that small, single victory, Kagome stood at the bottom of the stairway, wanting desperately to run back up into her room and put on her tunic and leggings. A gentle shove from Kikyo behind her urged her into the Great Hall, where all the guests had gathered. As she stepped into the room, voices began to subside as eyes turned toward her.

The longer Kagome stood, the longer the silence stretched. She was sure it was this horrible dress that drew their stares. It made her look weak.

Finally, Kohaku approached. "There's a man I want you to meet, Kagome." He gently guided her by her elbow into the gaping mass of people and the talking resumed, although at a quieter pitch.

Kagome halted and leaned close to him, whispering, "Does this dress look foolish?"

Kohaku paused to glance at it, then up at her face. There was confusion in his eyes. "What else would you wear in Mother's castle?"

Kohaku himself wore a houppelande of dark green velvet that fell in folds to the floor, gathered around his waist by a black belt. Kagome felt the corset confining her and wished she had insisted on wearing a houppelande. Finally, she swiveled her head around the room. "Why are they staring at me?"

"They are impressed that you captured the Prince of Demons."

"They thought I couldn't do it."

"Well, you must admit that most women would shiver and faint before your Dark Lord."

Kagome glanced at him, noticing the stress he put on "your". She briefly wondered if Sota had spoken with him. She chose to ignore it, casting a glance at Kikyo, who was leaning in to hear a whisper from an elderly woman dressed in an impeccable white sideless surcoat. Kikyo raised her eyes to Kagome for an instant and there was pain in them, then she quickly cast her head away and answered the woman, who blushed and straightened before quickly moving away.

They hated her, Kagome was sure of it. She wasn't what they thought a woman should be – quiet, married, and obeying every word her husband said.

Kagome glanced at the nobles. As her eyes scanned them, she caught an occasional curious glance before the watcher noticed her look and quickly turned away.

Disappointment raced through Kagome. This time was supposed to be different! She had captured the Prince of Demons, a task no one else had managed to accomplish. A task to make anyone the envy of all The East. Yet still they looked at her as though she were some sort of freak.

Kohaku propelled her through the room again. The tables were being set up for their meal and the guests were congregating in the middle of the Great Hall. Most of the lords and dukes were in the middle of the room. They were dressed in richer clothing and would not be seen speaking with the common man.

When Kagome neared the men gathered around the hearth she recognized many of them from her army. Captain Navarre was there in a yellow tunic and black leggings. He nodded to her. "M'lady."

She returned his greeting and moved past him. Finally, they came to a tall man whose back was to them.

"Excuse me," said Kohaku, and the man turned. He had a kind face and understanding eyes, yet lines of pain etched his forehead. He appeared almost as old as her Mother. "Lord Merle? I'd like you to meet my sister, Kagome."

"The Herald of Death! How nice to finally meet you," he said enthusiastically. He extended his hand, palm up, but then stopped cold. He appeared panicked for a moment.

Kagome immediately grasped his arm near the elbow, in the soldier's fashion. His face seemed to relax as he returned her shake. "It's very nice to meet you, too, Lord Merle. You have traveled far."

"Yes. I have been here for nigh on three days. I could not miss the opportunity to see the Prince of Demons," he replied. Kagome frowned. Dismayed at having apparently insulted her, he hastened to add, "Of course, I am delighted to meet you also. You are one of the East's greatest warriors. I am honored to be in your presence." He bowed slightly.

Kagome forced aside her fears for Sesshomaru and smiled brightly.

Kohaku interrupted, "Lord Merle was just telling us about the rumors that Tashio of The Western Lands has reached The Eastern Border."

"Yes, indeed," he murmured, his voice dropping conspiratorially. His demeanor turned serious as he said, "I have it by good and reliable sources that the Western king is laying siege to Harfleur as we speak."

"He's in The East?" Kagome asked. That would mean battle soon. I should gather my men and leave for Harfleur, she thought. No. I must wait until we are summoned. Perhaps we are needed elsewhere.

Someone grabbed her arm and she pulled it away before turning. Her Mother stood behind her. She was dressed impeccably, as always, wearing a Gown of black samite that swept to the floor. It had a high collar that rose to cover her neck and jagged sleeves lined with Rose Quartz. "Sirs, my daughter is needed elsewhere. Please excuse us," she said, and led her away by her elbow.

* * *

"What is so important, Mother?" Kagome wondered. "Is it an emissary from the king?"

"Oh, no, my dear," he chuckled. "I think it is important for you to speak with the right sort of people."

"Lord Merle seems like a nice man," Kagome replied as they approached the group of noblemen.

"If you prefer people with small lands." Her Mother stopped and turned to her. "You must be seen with more important men. You must think of your future, Kagome."

Yes. Her future! To advance her career she must associate with men of power and wealth. And these were the noblemen, the arrogant, pompous men who knew nothing of warfare, but reveled in the grandeur of it. It was the soldiers who won wars and sieges for them. But she also realized that to be an effective commander, she must have influence with both sides.

Her Mother led her to a small man with hair the color of the ground on a muddy day. His rich velvet houppelande waved like a flag as he spoke with a great flourish of his hands. It wasn't until they were closer that she saw he had the leggings of his plate mail on beneath the gown. Kagome had to force a smile down. In her experience, the only ones who displayed their own armor in this fashion were the ones who never involved themselves in anything more strenuous than barking commands from a tent far from the heat of the battle.

He was speaking with another man who was taller but just as thin. His padded blue samite jupon came to his hips. Kagome looked down to see that his black shoes extended nearly two feet beyond the tips of his toes, ending in points. Kagome almost giggled. She must remember to be careful not to step on them.

When they saw Kagome and her Mother approaching, the first man broke off his conversation to hail them. "Sango Taija!" he called. "How wonderful it is to see you again. And how is that charming girl of yours?"

"Kikyo is fine. She is here, you know. You must remember to speak with her," Sango Taija responded. "She was always very fond of you."

"And I of her," he said, his gaze coming to rest on Kagome.

She couldn't help but be repulsed at his small form. He appeared physically weak and very vulnerable, and there was something about his eyes that reminded her of a sick hound. She smiled anyway.

"Kagome," her Mother said, "this is our dear friend Count LeBurgh. Michel, this is my other daughter, Kagome."

He extended his hand and Kagome clasped it tightly around the lower arm.

Surprise and disgust washed over his face and he quickly withdrew his hand. "Yes, well…" he murmured, offended at her greeting.

Her Mother scowled heavily at her. Well, how did they expect her to act? By lowering her eyes and batting her lashes at him? When she had finally gathered her wits and was ready to put the situation to right, the count continued, "This is Duke Armand Caron," he said, introducing the man standing beside him.

The duke smiled warmly at Kagome. His pale visage seemed to color with life at the recognition. "Yes, of course. The Herald of Death. I must say, the pleasure is mine."

He did not offer a hand, but bowed slightly. Kagome was grateful.

Count LeBurgh nodded his head and raised his nose to the ceiling, peering at Kagome down its slender line, as if now seeing her for the first time. "Ah, yes. The female warrior."

Even through his air of haughtiness, Kagome saw something akin to apprehension flash through his dark eyes. Her legend, she knew. Everything he had heard of her was crowding his small brain. She wanted to smile, but could not embarrass her Mother with such open mockery. Kagome glanced at her Mother. Her thin eyebrows were drawn down in a pout of disapproval.

"Not just a warrior," Duke Caron went on. "But the knight who brought us the Prince of Demons!"

"Yes," the count sighed. "He must be a pitiful character, after all."

Kagome felt her blood beginning to boil at the insult. "I beg your pardon, sir. But I am sure you would not wish to come face to face with him on the field of honor. I have been told that in –"

"Kagome, please," Sango Taija murmured. "These men do not wish to hear of the Prince of Demons now."

Kagome frowned. Wasn't' she supposed to impress them with her stature as a knight? To ensure them that their gold would not be wasted if they chose to add financing to her army?

"Count LeBurgh, are you not looking for a wife?" Sango Taija continued.

Kagome's mouth fell open. Surely her Mother did not bring her over here to auction her off to these stuffy nobles like a prize mare!

"On the contrary," Duke Caron interrupted. "I would be most thrilled to hear of the Prince of Demons. After all, this is why we are here. Please continue."

Kagome watched with dread as her Mother placed an arm around Count LeBurgh's shoulder and steered him away. She saw the count glance at her and then nod and shrug at something her Mother was saying.

She wanted to run to her room, or the stables, or the practice yard, strip off this horrible, confining dress, and don her tunic and hose, swing her battle sword like she were cutting off someone's head…or nose.

Instead, she turned back to Duke Caron with the most charming smile and related the bloody events that led to the capture of the Prince of Darkness…

* * *

Sesshomaru followed the guards up the stairs. The red glow of the setting sun stung his eyes as the light attacked him through the windows in the hallway. Two guards walked in front of him, two behind. They had dragged him out of the dark dungeon after what he guessed had been two days and two nights, not saying a word as to where they were taking him. His wounds were healing and his side did not hurt quite as badly, but he was weak from lack of any substantial food. The chains that bound him in the damp cell had not allowed for much movement, either; his muscles felt stiff and tight.

Sesshomaru thought he recognized the tapestry that hung on the wall as they passed and believed he was back in the original hallway they had ushered him through when they first brought him inside the castle.

The guards stopped as they reached a massive set of oak doors, and pushed them open to reveal a room crowded with people. It appeared Sesshomaru was a popular man in the East. Expectant eyes fell on him and the room grew silent. Like the pickets of a fence, numerous armored guards were stationed on either side of a wide path that stretched from Sesshomaru to the other end of the hall. Sesshomaru followed the walkway with his eyes. The rich colors and textures of the people standing along the path made it clear that these were nobles. At the far end of the room, Sesshomaru saw a woman dressed in rich pink velvets seated in a chair. Beside her, a woman stood dressed in a deep green that reminded Sesshomaru of forests leaves. He found himself fascinated by the dark, rebellious curls that hung over her shoulders, held out of her face by a simple, if somewhat outdated, headband. Somehow, it seemed that her curls were waiting to spring free. Her figure was flawless and Sesshomaru found himself imagining her warming his bed. Then his gaze was captured by the blue of her sparkling eyes, like two great gems shining across the room. His dark eyes widened in astonishment as he realized who the woman was.

Kagome had discarded her tunic and leggings – her men's clothing – for a gown of emerald velvet. The fabric clung to her breasts and hips, accenting them with a femininity he knew all too well. And yet, not well enough. His dark eyes moved hungrily over the curves of her body. Desire flamed through his body stronger than it had ever before. He knew that he must possess this woman. He must have her again. And this time, he would see the passion in her eyes and drink from her honeyed lips. He would hear her beg for more.

He was shoved forward by a guard behind him and tripped over his ankle bindings. As he fought to right himself, he heard contemptuous snickers from the gathering. He immediately straightened, throwing daggers of hatred at anyone who dared look him in the eye. Of course they laugh, he thought. I am bound and they are safe. These people have the same look in their eyes as the Eastern villains in the streets, Sesshomaru thought. They'd be just as amused to see my head in a basket.

He stopped only a few steps from the woman seated in the chair. Sesshomaru's black eyes swept the woman from head to toe. Though she was a bit old. In the Wolf Pack, she would have still been alpha female. The younger women would have challenged her authority many years ago and been put down. This society was strange to allow a woman such as this to continue to rule. Her clothing suggested her life was soft and pampered. Gentle. But as Sesshomaru's gaze traveled up, he noticed the woman's eyes. There was an edge to them. A hardness. A challenge. And Sesshomaru knew that the woman's appearance was deceiving. Sesshomaru saw the grin that twitched the old Lady's wrinkled lips.

"So," the woman said, "you are the one the legends tell of. You do not disappoint."

Sesshomaru did not reply, but cast a quick, wary glance at Kagome to see that her face was empty of emotion, before his gaze slid back to the man.

"I am Sango Taija De Bouriez. Lady of this castle – and Kagome's Mother," the old man said.

It was not Kagome's castle! Sesshomaru kept his surprise hidden behind a mask of indifference. Her Mother. Sesshomaru found himself intrigued. He would have liked to speak with the woman privately, to know whys he allowed her daughter to be a warrior, particularly in a land that abhorred female warriors, but he knew this would never happen. "King Tashio sends you his greetings," Sesshomaru remarked.

"I rather doubt that what you say is true. Tashio barely knows who I am."

"On the contrary. You are the Herald of Death's Mother. Her legend is almost as great as mine."

"Such arrogance! Why, if I were in your shoes, I would be most meek. All of The East favors my daughter. And you are in The East, my dear boy."

Sesshomaru threw Kagome a harsh glance. How could she throw me to these vultures?

Kagome returned his gaze with her chin raised, without a glimpse of remorse. She came down the two steps of the dais to stand before him and Sesshomaru found his anger subsiding as his desire flamed anew. The velvet clung to her hips like a second skin and he longed to run his hand over the smooth material, to feel the curves beneath it.

Sesshomaru heard the silence in the hall. Even the nobles were quietly watching as the Herald of Death, clothed in her emerald gown, stood before the Prince of Darkness, bound hand and foot, naked from the waist up. Sesshomaru could not deny the malevolence that flowed around them, that threatened to sweep him away. Yet with all the interested stares and the gaping from the mass of people behind him, Sesshomaru felt something else. There was something that bound him and Kagome, something far more powerful than hate.

For just a moment Sesshomaru thought he saw regret in her eyes before they hardened again, a wall of stone rising between them.

"Kneel," Sango Taija commanded. "Kneel to me so that all The East knows how loyal you are to this country." Her words dripped with mockery.

A murmur rose through the hall before deadly silence engulfed the room again.

Sesshomaru's face stiffened. His answer was directed at Kagome. "Never."

He heard a rustle of clothing and glanced at the dais long enough to see Sango Taija place a hand on Sota's arm, holding him back. Sesshomaru noticed with some satisfaction that Sota's right eye was colored by a fading black and blue ring.

Sango Taija's eyes shifted to Kagome. A scowl crashed down over Sesshomaru's face and he, too, looked at Kagome.

"Kneel to him," she whispered urgently. "Please." The sound of her voice kissed his ears, but the words stung them.

Sesshomaru would have done anything for her when she used that seductive tone. Anything except pledge his fealty to a lord other than Tashio. "I cannot. Not even for you, Priestess." He saw disappointment flitter across her face, and beneath that, hurt. It angered him. How could she ask that of him? Would she kneel to another so quickly?

Sota shook off his Mother's hand and stepped up to the edge of the dais. What was he planning? Sesshomaru wondered. To kill me here? Sota inclined his head toward a place behind Sesshomaru. Had he gotten someone to help him? Is he still afraid of me even though I am chained? Sesshomaru turned to see a man step forward, his dark eyes glaring at Sesshomaru. "M'lord?"

Sango Taija sighed. "Yes, Sir Pierre?"

"I request the right to challenge an enemy of The East."

Sango Taija nodded.

Sir Pierre turned to Sesshomaru. "I challenge you to a joust."

Sesshomaru grinned, pleased that he would finally get to exercise his sore muscles. "I gladly accept." He had never lost a joust in his life and he knew this bumbler would be no match for him.

"Such bravado," Sango Taija exclaimed.

The people parted as a second man on the opposite side of the floor stepped forward. "I do challenge you, also."

Sesshomaru hesitated, but only for a moment. He turned to the second challenger. This one seemed more of a fool than the first. Sesshomaru's laughter was dark. "Had I known I was such a popular fellow here I would have come of my own accord." He swept a deep, exaggerated bow. "I am flattered, good sir, and I do accept your kind offer."

The second man frowned, insulted, but returned the bow and sealed the duel.

Behind Sesshomaru, Sota's voice boomed over the crowd, quieting it. "And I. I challenge you, also. To a joust to the death."

Sesshomaru wiped the grin from his face. He could feel the hatred emanating from Sota's body like heat from a flaming hearth. But he expertly masked his flash of apprehension and bowed at Sota. "You do look like a man tired of living."

The room grew quiet again and Sesshomaru fought off the prickling of danger creeping up his back. He addressed Sango Taija with a mocking smile. "Out of all your brave knights there are only these three swine who would challenge the Prince of Demons? You make it far too easy."

The silence, and tension, in the hall grew.

"Are there any others?" Sango Taija quietly asked the assemblage.

Sesshomaru heard the sounds behind him and he had the feeling he shouldn't look. But he had to. And when he did, he wished he hadn't.

Every sword in the hall was raised in challenge.

* * *

Hey everyone. I wanted to get a few chapters up today. I seem to be feeling a bit better. Chicken broth with garlic and cayenne pepper works wonders. So here are a few chapters Hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed writing them. I'm planning on having this be close to 50 chapters total. So we aren't close to being finished yet. Hope you all stick around for the whole thing and keep reviewing. Love the reviews I have been getting. Also next month I will be out of touch and unable to update until sometime around the 20th. Going to a syfy convention called marcon in ohio. So no updates from the 9th to the 20th. Sorry.


	19. Chapter 18

Hey all. Just got a new chapter up. Been A while. I know. Job hunting, unpacking, just a mess. Anyhow . . . Here's chapter 18.

P.S. I put up a fanfiction Called Spider lullaby. I made it a few years ago then lost the usb drive. I don't know whether or not I should put up more chapters or not. Could you take a look and leave me a review.

* * *

It is ridiculous, Kagome thought as she paced before the stone window in her room, the shutters open wide to the night sky. She did not feel the chilly air as it tried to wrap its frigid fingers around her bare shoulders; her body blazed with a blanket of anger. Her nightdress swooshed with each furious step. This was not a joust! It was murder. Knights did not behave in such an unchivalrous manner. What had happened to her men? To her brother? Had the war turned them into barbarians?

Kagome paused to stare into the black night. She wondered how she had come to see things so differently than Sota. There was a time when everything was black and white, right and wrong. Now that was not so. Or maybe it was. But Sota's right was suddenly her wrong.

A forbidden thought came to her. It would be so easy to go to Sesshomaru…to… She crossed her arms over her chest as a sudden chill swept over her, peppering her arms with tiny bumps. What had happened to right and wrong? Life was so clear before. England was the enemy of France. But she was not France. Just as Sesshomaru was not England. He was a man.

A man who had made her feel beautiful.

He is my prisoner, she rationalized, and I will not let a bloodbath take place. She whirled and stormed to the door, determined to see her Mother and put a stop to this lunacy. She threw the door open and stopped instantly when she saw Sota leaning casually against the stone wall opposite her room, like a lazy lion waiting for its prey. He was flipping a small pebble in his hand.

Kagome's hand fell to her side, clenching into a fist.

"I thought you might be up late," he said quietly, tossing the pebble aside.

Tingles shot up her spine, and she had the oddest feeling of being trapped. As she walked into the hallway, the dim orange-yellow light from two flickering torches washed over her. "What are you doing here?" she wondered.

"Giving you one last chance," Sota replied, a shadow flickering across his face. "I knew you'd fail."

Her eyebrows drew together in uncertainty.

"You see," Sota continued, "I knew that when the jousts were announced, you would react as you have."

"He is my prisoner and I will not tolerate –" Kagome began, but stopped as she saw Sota take a threatening step toward her.

"That's not the reason you protest."

"No, I protest because this is not a joust. It's a massacre," Kagome said. "He cannot fight all of France!"

"Have you no worry for your knights? Or your brother?" His voice was oddly quiet, menacing in its softness. "After all, he is the strongest knight in England. Their best warrior."

"You are mad," Kagome snapped in disgust, too angry to make him see the insanity of the situation through words of calm. "I won't let you joust. I won't let you fight him."

"But we want to. You cannot deny our right, Kagome. You cannot deny the Code of Chivalry," Sota said.

"A hundred knights against one is not chivalrous!" she roared.

"Why do you defend him? Let him die in battle."

"I would, if it wasn't a slaughter!" Her eyes were dark with rage, her brows knit, her teeth clenched.

Sota's eyes narrowed. "I don't think you would. I don't think you could sit there and watch him die. You love him, don't you?"

"No!"

Sota stepped closer. "You do. I've seen the way you watch him."

"No!"

Closer still. "The way you light up when you see him."

"No!"

"The pain in your eyes because you know it's wrong."

The truth in his words stunned her. Yes. She did love Sesshomaru. Why hadn't she seen it? How had it happened? Her hands began to shake and she had to turn away from him. She could not let him see how true his accusations were. But Kagome knew that turning away was confirmation enough and she hated herself for not being able to look him in the eye.

"I'm not going to let you interfere with this joust. I will kill him, if only for your sake."

"Sota, no. You mustn't –"

Before Kagome realized what was happening, Sota had seized her wrist in a grip as hard as iron shackle. He had pulled her halfway across the hall, toward her room, before she came to her senses and dug her bare heels into the floor. But his strength was too much for her and he easily flung her into her bedchamber, then closed the door with a resounding thud.

Kagome caught herself before she lost her balance and stood absolutely still as images of her childhood came gushing into her mind: Sota, a boy of twelve, hair the color of and texture of bark, dragging her to her room; she, a small child of eight, crying and screaming helplessly. She remembered his hard grasp bruising her wrist as he tossed her like a rag doll into her room. And finally she remembered the chilling sound of the bolt sliding home as the door was locked.

Then, Kagome realized that the soft clang that echoed through her mind was not a memory! She ran to the door, pulling at the cold metal handle. The door did not open. Disbelief, followed closely by a feeling of dread, consumed her as she yanked frantically on the handle. Again it did not budge. She slammed her fist into the wooden door, screaming, "Sota! Let me out!" She shook the handle again but the thick wooden door did not budge. She pounded on it, her heart aching with desperation, her mind filling with despair. "Oh, God," she mumbled, a light sweat making her brow shimmer.

She raced to the window. Through the moonlit shadows of the night, she could see no movement below her. The moat was calm, the forest beyond was still. She was at least fifty feet up and the walls were too slick for scaling. The ledge had a curving lip so even if a ladder were laid against the castle wall no one would be able to gain access to the room. It had been specifically chosen and designed by her Mother so no man could scale the wall and whisk her away.

She had to get out. Sesshomaru's life was in danger! The joust was at noon and she had to stop it! They wouldn't even allow his wounds to completely heal before they slaughtered him.

Kagome whirled, her gaze darting about the room, stopping on the impenetrable stone walls, the useless arced windows, and then back to the bolted door. I did not find a way out before. Why should now be any different? she wondered. Her breath came in rapid gulps, as if the room were being sucked dry of air. A feeling of strangulation grabbed her and she put her hands to her throat.

She had to get out! But how? There wasn't a way. She had looked and looked! You fool, she chastised herself. You were a child! Now you are a warrior. But what am I to do? Splinter the door? How do you win battles? she asked herself. Through brawn? No. Through brains. Think !

Kagome paced the room, trying to come up with a plan while attempting to calm the anxiety that was racing through her veins. Her gaze scanned the room again. She ran to the window, again a child of eight, and looked down the sheer wall of the castle. Like an abyss, the descent to the brackish water gaped before her. To a child's mind, the curving banks of the moat seemed to frown up at her.

Kagome turned away to scan the room once more. Her eyes came to rest on the four-poster bed. Even if she tied all the blankets together, they would not be enough to reach the ground. It was too far. If the fall to the ground did not kill her, and through some miracle she reached the moat, it was unswimmable. Of course, Kagome knew this. For she had thought of it before.

Again she ran to the door, retracing the steps she had taken as a child. She pounded on the wood, screaming to be let out.

But no one came.

The tears of a scared little girl welled in her eyes. They would leave her here…she would never get out. She would grow old and die in this room, and no one would know.

Slowly, Kagome's hand clenched. Stop it, she told herself. Stop it. There is a way out of here. And it's not setting fire to the room, as you thought those many years ago. And it's not jumping into the moat.

Kagome forced herself to calm her breathing and walked quietly to her bed. She sat down, her chin bowed to her chest. There is a way out, she told herself.

The blind fear of a child was slowly replaced by a burning anger. How dare Sota lock me in here, Kagome thought. I will get out. And I will get him back.

Calmly, Kagome considered the door. It was much too thick to break down. But it was not the door itself that was her barrier. It was the bolt. She knew how a bolt worked. Somehow, she had to breach the bolt.

Kagome shot to her feet, ran to her bureau, and dug through the silk dresses and gauzy chemises as if they were old rags. Finally, after parting rich bolts of material, she found it. After all these years, it was still there, buried deep beneath layers of Spanish satin and Venetian velvet. Carefully, she picked it up and held it before her eyes. The candlelight sparkled off its long, thin metallic surface. It was a hunting knife, Sota's pride and joy. She had taken it from him many, many years ago, after he had hidden a dead fish under her pillow. She grinned. He had never found it. It served him right for his prank.

She raced to the door and carefully inserted the blade between the frame and the door. She bit her lip, squinting as she pushed the blade up. All she had to do was slide the bolt back and push the door open. Slide the bolt back, she told herself. Careful. She felt the weight of the bolt on the blade as she slowly tilted the weapon to the side. But it slipped and the bolt slid heavily back into place with a thud. Kagome clenched her teeth. Getting angry won't move that bolt, she told herself. Her jaw relaxed and she took a long, slow breath before making another attempt. Lift the bolt, move it back. Back. I have it, she thought. It's working! Then, scrape. The bolt shot back into place. Silently, Kagome cursed. Lift. She wiped the perspiration from her brow. She pictured the bolt in her mind. Slide it back as if opening the door. Kagome bit her lips gently as the bolt eased back. Further. Don't pull yet. Not yet. Her hands shook with the effort of holding the bolt open. Then, Kagome yanked on the door. It swung open and she nearly stumbled back into a bedpost. Elation coursed through her like the dawn bursting through the night sky.

Kagome kissed the blade and quickly glanced down the hallway, half expecting Sota to still be standing guard before her room.

The hallway was empty.

Kagome returned her gaze to the knife, staring at it for a long moment, knowing that she should bring it with her. The picture of her brandishing a knife before her brother seemed ridiculous. She would never hurt him, no matter what, and he knew it. Finally, she tossed the dagger back into the room.

Kagome closed the door behind her and slid the bolt back into place, just in case Sota happened to pass by while she was gone. Swiftly but quietly, she made her way down the hallway toward a stairwell, her bare feet making no sound. The stairwell should be empty at this time of night.

The cold stones stung her feet as she descended, but she ignored the biting chill, watching and listening for any movements.

"Are you ready for the joust?"

Kagome came to an immediate halt, the momentum of her forward movement almost hurtling her down the rest of the stairs toward the source of the voice. She pulled back into the shadows of the staircase, pressing her back against the wall.

"I can't wait to slice him in two."

"You must leave some for me. Not all the fun can be yours."

Kagome was certain the second voice belonged to Sota and she pushed herself further against the wall until she could feel the stones against her skin. A chill twisted up her spine. She must not be found. Least of all by Sota.

A chuckle sounded from below. "If you wanted to put your lance through him, why didn't you challenge him first?"

There was a rustle of clothing before Sota's words, whispered and furious, ascended to Kagome's ears. "If you kill him before I have a chance, I will have your head!"

Then, footsteps echoed in the Great Hall as one of them walked away. After a moment, the second, softer pair trod the same path. Slowly, she took one step and then another, until she could see the Great Hall stretching out before her. Sota and the other knight were gone, and the hall was strangely empty. Long flickering shadows cast by the torches on the walls stretched across its length.

Kagome dashed around a corner and ran down the stairs. It was dank and foul-smelling below. But the quick pounding of her heart pushed her on, down another narrower set of steps, to enter the dungeon from the rear entrance.

A small, dark corridor stretched before her, ending at a barred door. She approached slowly, her bare feet slushing over cold, wet stones. Where was the guard who was stationed here?

When she reached the door, she was surprised to find it ajar. Kagome stood on tiptoe to peer through the bars. The room beyond was black and she could make out no movement. Foreboding snaked through her body as she pressed the tips of her fingers to the door's slimy wood and it opened slightly. She pushed harder and the hinges groaned as it swung inward.

She stepped into the dark room and the hem of her nightdress snagged on something. Fearing a rat, she lashed out with her foot only to hit cold metal. Chain mail. She took a quick step back, startled by her discovery. The guard!

Suddenly, Kagome saw a shadowed movement. Before she could react, a hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her gasp. Instantly, another hand seized her slim waist and pulled her back to a wall of muscle. Kagome's heart raced as she cursed herself for being so stupid. She felt the sharp edge of a dagger press into her chin, stilling any struggles before they could start.

"Not a word," a husky voice whispered.

A shadowed form stepped before her and looked out into the hallway. "It's clear," the second man said as he moved aside.

Kagome felt herself being shoved forward through the dark hallway, to the stairwell, the first man right behind her.

A familiar chuckle caressed her ear. "Come for the escape, Priestess?" The hand about her waist loosened to roam upward, caressing her skin. "Or perhaps for another romp?"

Sesshomaru. Embarrassment blazed through her body, fueling her courage, and she began to struggle. When the dagger's tip was again pressed into her chin, she stiffened.

"Oh, no, my little Priestess," the voice stroked her ear with rich sarcasm. "We cannot have you calling attention to our venture."

Relief and anger surged through her as he half carried, half dragged her up the narrow stairs. He turned and continued up the next flight. Her bare feet scraped against the ragged stones because she couldn't keep up with his large strides as he took two steps at a time.

At the Great Hall, Sesshomaru paused. Kagome tried to catch her breath, but it was difficult while his hand was over her mouth. They began crossing the large room. Fools, Kagome thought. How can they hope to escape through the Great Hall – shadows sneaking across the vast expanse of hall, metal glinting in the torchlight?

"Someone's coming," the other man stated.

They pulled back into the shadows of the stairway that led to Kagome's room. She heard a soft whistling accompanying the echo of the footsteps as the person approached from the hallway, the way Sota had disappeared.

At that moment, a soft clang of rustling chain mail came from the entrance that led to the castle doors. It was the guards from the tower! And they were coming straight for them.

Kagome jerked, trying desperately to move toward the stairs that led up to her room. But Sesshomaru's hold was like a shackle, binding her movements. If only he would follow her!

Kagome yanked her head away sharply, hitting Sesshomaru in the cheek. He mumbled a curse as Kagome gasped, "The stairs." After a second's hesitation, Kagome felt his hold on her loosen and she grabbed his arm, moving a step up the stairs. She tried to pull him, but he was like a wall to move. He had to come of his own will. It was the only way he would be safe. In the soft glow of the wavering torchlight she beseeched him with her eyes.

Sesshomaru moved unexpectedly, almost running her over. He bounded up the stairs, her wrist in his tight grip. Sesshomaru paused at the top of the stairs and gazed down the hall. It was empty. Kagome hurried down the hallway, leading them to her room. She opened the lock and then the door, and let them pass before closing it quickly behind her. She breathed a small sigh of relief. Sesshomaru was safe for the moment. Together, they could collect their thoughts and formulate a plan of action.

"It's a trap."

Kagome whirled, facing her accuser. It was the first time she had seen the man. And she disliked him on sight. His eyes were filled with loathing, his lip curled in a sneer. His clothes, the ragged trappings of a common beggar, were mud splattered and stained. Kagome looked closer at his eyes and saw an alert sharpness behind the loathing; this man was no beggar.

"Where is the escape route?" he demanded. "The witch has led us into a trap."

"Yes," Kagome answered bitterly. "You see thousands of my men crawling from beneath my bed to apprehend you."

The man raised the dagger he held in his hand and stepped toward her menacingly.

Sesshomaru's strong hand rose in a motion to halt.

Kagome's gaze shifted to him. The candlelight washed over his features, bathing him in a soft, golden light. The scar on his cheek was ghostly. "This is no trap, Bankotsu," Sesshomaru murmured.

As Kagome watched, his eyes shifted and she followed his gaze to the bed that stood invitingly near. She blushed and could not help turning back to Sesshomaru. His dark, smoldering eyes raked her from the tips of her hair to her feet. Kagome crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly aware of how transparent her nightdress was.

"She must die," Bankotsu said grimly, approaching Sesshomaru.

Sesshomaru tore his gaze away from Kagome to look at Bankotsu.

"Vengeance for all those she killed in camp."

Sesshomaru turned away from him. "I know."

With shaking hands, Kagome grabbed at the handle of the door. She had to escape! But a hand beside her head held the door in place when she attempted to pull it open. She tried once again, but the door didn't move even a hair's breadth.

Kagome closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the door, prepared to feel the dagger's death bite on her throat.

It never came.

Instead, a gentle hand upon her upper arm guided her away from the door. Numb, she could not lift her head to look at him, sick with the realization that she would betray her country to help him and in return he would kill her – the Prince of Darkness would slit her throat. She had given everything to him. And he would give her death.

Sesshomaru turned her body and seated her upon her bed.

"Here," Bankotsu said.

As Sesshomaru left her side, Kagome looked up. Bankotsu stood at the window, gazing down. Had they seen something she had missed? There was no escape there – just the dirty jaws of the moat fifty feet below.

Sesshomaru nodded. "Good."

Both men's gazes then shifted to her. There was a moment of indecision, and silent tension poisoned the air. Without a word, Bankotsu raised his weapon and came toward her.

Kagome squared her shoulders and raised her chin. She was a soldier. She would not cower before death.

"I'll do it," Sesshomaru said.

Bankotsu faltered. He did not take another step, but his dark eyes probed Kagome as she sat on the bed; her eyes dared him to finish his task.

"Go," Sesshomaru commanded.

Bankotsu took two steps backward before turning to Sesshomaru. He replaced his dagger in its sheath.

Sesshomaru did not take his eyes from Kagome. "I will join you in a moment."

Kagome watched incredulously as Bankotsu mounted the inside ledge of the window. She rose, crying, "You'll be killed!" as Bankotsu casually stepped from the window. She ran to the vacated ledge and quickly peered over the side to the moat below. In the light just before sunrise, the gray waters of the moat appeared tinged with red. There was no sign of Bankotsu.

Kagome's gaze swept from shore to shore, but the banks remained empty. Panicked, she turned to look at Sesshomaru. The muscles in his right arm were twitching and Kagome's gaze followed the corded sinews to his hand. He was turning his dagger over in his palm, again and again.

Her gaze shot up to lock with his, expecting to see hate. But strangely, his eyes were shadowed with sadness.

"You knew that I would not kneel to your Mother." His tone was resentful as he stepped toward her.

Kagome began to back away from him. She saw a dangerous look hidden beneath the sadness. Yet she could say nothing to defend herself. She felt naked before his probing eyes, as if he could reach into her soul and pull out her deepest secrets. He continued to dog her steps, until the backs of her knees hit the bed.

Sesshomaru stopped short before her.

Kagome's chest rose and fell with her breathing, the tips of her breasts barely brushing his chest. Was he going to kill her now? Her blue eyes blazed defiantly, staring into his dark, unfathomable orbs.

Suddenly, he tossed aside the dagger and seized her, pulling her close. "I could never kill you," he whispered. "I could never mar this flawless skin." His finger caressed her neck, creating a line that an assassin would draw.

Kagome gasped at the gentle touch that sent spears of flame shooting through her body.

"Why did you come to the dungeon?" Sesshomaru demanded. "Tell me why you risked your life to see me."

His closeness was overwhelming, and she could not think logically. All she wanted to do was to throw her arms around his broad shoulders and kiss him.

"Damn you, tell me," he grunted, shaking her.

He pressed his thighs against hers and Kagome could feel his passion through his leggings. She groaned softly. He wanted her!

He pushed the proof of his desire even closer against her. "Is this why?" he asked in a gentler tone, the heat of his gaze soldering her to the spot.

"No," she choked out. She tried to pull away from him, but he would not let her go.

Sesshomaru cupped her face gently. He stared hard at her, as if battling emotions deep within him. "Come with me," he finally said.

Surprised rocked through her. He wanted her with him! Did he love her, as she did him? Did he want her like she wanted him? Then her elation dissipated and was replaced with doubt. Yes, he wanted her. As his prisoner. She dropped her gaze and shook her head. She could feel his stare burning into her skull.

"I'll find you again." His voice was filled with confidence. With promise.

She wanted to believe him. With all her heart she wanted to fall victim to his promise. But she knew that the war was more powerful than either one of them, the hate between their countries too strong. Suddenly, a feeling of loss filled her and she looked into Sesshomaru's gold eyes. The impact of Sesshomaru escaping hit her full force. She was afraid she would never see him again, afraid that the place he had warmed in her heart would now turn cold. Anguish filled her entire soul.

Sesshomaru reached up with his hand, caressing the softness of her cheek. He slowly lowered his head, giving her plenty of time to pull away.

But she did not.

His lips moved over hers, coaxing her to open to his exploration. Kagome parted her lips, and his tongue plunged into the recesses of her mouth. His strong arms encircled her, giving her no room to retreat.

Fear jolted Kagome and she shook her head frantically, suddenly more afraid of him than she had ever been before. She yanked her head back, pressing her hands against his chest. She had dreamed of him touching her with the softness and gentleness of a man who loved her and now that he was doing just that her powerful response to his caress was overwhelming. The ecstasy he was giving her with each stroke of his hands and lips was so wonderful that it made the pain of his leaving too much to bear. "If only…" she whispered. The barrier that separated them was huge, impassable. It was not a man. It was not a country. It was honor. It was allegiance. These were things they could not fight with a sword. She lifted a sad gaze to him.

He stared at her with an intensity of promise and anguish that she felt through to her heart. She shivered under the searing look, wanting to curl up to him, wanting to kiss him, wanting to go with him, but knowing she could not. Beneath her open palm, she felt the hammering of his heart, racing as her own did until they seemed to beat as one.

Suddenly, there was a pounding at the door!

Sesshomaru pulled away from their embrace and looked toward the door, every muscle in his body coiled tightly.

"Sesshomaru," Kagome whispered, turning her sight to the door. She absently reached for his hand. She would accept whatever judgment was levied against Sesshomaru upon herself as well. They would face it together. But when the warmth of his hand failed to engulf hers, Kagome glanced back.

Sesshomaru was poised on the ledge, his dark gaze locked on the moat below.

Panic flared wildly inside of Kagome. "No!" she screamed, launching herself toward him. He would kill himself!

Sesshomaru glanced up at her. In his dark eyes, Kagome saw a softness and a longing that she had never seen before. He lurched for her wrist, but suddenly stopped cold. He looked at his hand as if it were a traitor before he slowly drew it back. A rueful smile barely tipped his lips. Then, before she could reach him, he was gone.

Desperately, she ran to the window. The waters below rippled slightly, but there was no sign of Sesshomaru. Kagome waited, holding her breath until she had to gasp for air.

Still Sesshomaru had not appeared.

"No!" she cried at the waters, slapping her fists against the cold stones. "No! Damn it!" She felt hot tears trickle over her cheeks, blurring her vision of the gray waters below.

He was gone. The Prince of Demons was gone.

Kagome wept into her palms, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

Sesshomaru was dead.

* * *

Please contribute to the writers madness and leave a review.


	20. Chapter 19

The knock sounded again at the wooden door, echoing through Kagome's mind like a distant roar. She lifted her head from the cool stones of the ledge and turned her tearful gaze to the door. It took a long moment before she was able to compose herself. She rose slowly from her reverent position at the window and, wiping tears from her hot cheeks and eyes with a shaking hand, she moved to the door.

The booming knock came again.

Kagome leaned against the door, barely able to whimper, "Who is it?"

"Kagome? It's Kikyo."

Kikyo? For a moment, Kagome's hazy mind refused to acknowledge the name. Then, slowly, she put a face with the name. Her sister.

"I've been up since dawn. I couldn't sleep," Kikyo said. "Then when I happened down the corridor, I heard noises from your room. Are you all right?"

Kagome couldn't answer. Tears rose again in her eyes.

"Kagome?" Kikyo's voice floated through the wooden door. "I thought I heard you screaming."

"It was just a nightmare," Kagome whispered.

"May I come in?"

Kagome paused. She couldn't let Kikyo see her like this. Her sluggish mind searched for an excuse. Finally, she said, "I – I wish to get more sleep."

"Will you be all right?"

"Yes, Kikyo," Kagome replied, and staggered away from the door, her gaze riveted on the window and the ledge where just moments before Sesshomaru had stood.

"I'll come by later to –"

Kikyo's voice drifted off as Kagome crossed the expanse of her room to return to the window. She bent over the ledge, her eyes scanning the moat below, but the water was like a silver mirror, showing her nothing of what might lie below its surface. He was gone. The sun's light edged toward the dark grave of the waters. Numbness spread through Kagome's body. All she could do was stare into the moat, hoping that somehow he would appear.

He didn't.

* * *

Kagome followed listlessly as Kikyo tugged her along, blazing a path through the gentry to the platform that was reserved for her family and honored guests. The large, muddy flatland that served as the field of honor was overflowing with people. Over the simple wooden fence that surrounded the field, anxious spectators hung like eager children waiting for a treat. Peasants sat on the small hills just beyond the standing observers. A rope separated the rabble from the local gentry. The nobility sat on brightly colored blankets, eating fine breads and drinking ale.

Kagome could not get Sesshomaru's image from her mind. He haunted her thoughts like a vengeful ghost. The memory of the swirling smoke fading to reveal his dark visage, his long silver hair, moon kissed skin, and the way his liquid gold eyes opened and pinned her, breathless, to the spot, made her tremble with the loss of this man who was so much more than just a man. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him reach for her from the darkness. And every time she opened her eyes to find that he wasn't there, the pain of his death gripped her tighter.

The trumpets sounded, jarring Kagome from her daze. A deafening roar erupted from the crowd and Kagome lifted her eyes to see the De Higurashi banner leading the way before the brilliantly dressed knights as they rode onto the field. Armor glinted in hot flashes as whinnying beasts took their riders around the field. The thunder of hoofbeats pounded in Kagome's ears and her heart ached. Sesshomaru would have looked splendid in his shining armor, riding a magnificent battle steed.

Kikyo touched her arm. Kagome whipped her agonized gaze up to her sister. Kikyo's joyful smile disintegrated. Kagome pulled her arm away and turned, racing back the way they had come through the crowd. She couldn't bear to be with her countrymen with the memory of Sesshomaru's death so vivid in her mind.

Kagome hoisted the silken skirts of her houppelande above her knees and ran up the grassy hill toward the forest that surrounded the castle. She vaguely heard her sister call out after her but she paid her words no heed. She crashed through the foliage, sharp thorns and branches tearing at her dress, scratching her skin. The cheers of the crowd followed her into the darkness of the forest, mocking her attempt to escape his memory. She finally collapsed beside an old oak tree, burying her face in her folded arms. How could the mighty Prince of Demons be dead? she demanded silently. How can a legend die? The moat surrounding De Higurashi Castle has swallowed many, but never one so strong as the Prince of Demons! It cannot be. He cannot be dead. Fool, she chastised herself. You saw him leap from the window with your own eyes. No man can survive a fall that far.

"You set him free."

Kagome jerked her head up and turned quickly. Sota stood behind her, his golden plate armor gleaming in the shadows like a torch, threatening to burn her where she lay. He held his helmet in his arm and his brown hair wavered gently in a breeze. He took a step and knelt beside her, his armored knee making a deep impression in the dirt. His sharp blue eyes coldly assessed Kagome's face for a moment before his upper lip curled in contempt. "Regretting your action already, Sister?"

His words shocked her and she sat up, brushing the tears from her cheeks.

"How did you get him out of the castle?"

"What?" she gasped. "Which way did you send him?" Sota asked through clenched teeth. She began to shake her head. "Sota, you don't understand." "I understand quite well, Sister. I understand that you're a fool. He used you. He used you to aid his escape." "No," Kagome gasped. "You will tell me where he went." "He jumped out the window, Sota. Into the moat," she replied miserably, baring her soul, her pain. "Lies!" Sota roared.

Kagome jerked back as if he had struck her.

"Why do you protect him?" he demanded. Her mouth dropped in disbelief. "He's dead! I can protect him from nothing!" she shouted, feeling her throat tighten to choke off her voice.

Slowly, Sota stood and stared down at her, his upper lip curling in a sneer. "I do not need your aid to find him. I simply thought you might want to offer it." Kagome watched as he strode away, the beginnings of panic rising inside her. He did not believe her! Her own kin thought she lied. What would her people think?

* * *

Kagome gazed wearily into the moat. Tiny drops of rain pelted the gray water. Even after three days, she still could not believe Sesshomaru was dead. His passionate touch seemed like a dream, another lifetime. At least it was easier for Kagome to think of it that way.

But there was also a nagging doubt that festered in her mind. Why had she led him to her room? At the time, her feet had taken the path to her room out of instinct. What had she planned to do with him once they got there?

Had she really meant to set him free? No! her rational mind screamed. Never. She had meant to hide him in her room until the joust was over. And yet they would have found Sesshomaru afterwards. And then the joust would have been scheduled for the following day, or the day after. The only way to truly be chivalrous was to set him free.

No! she argued in silence. I simply meant to… I never intended to free him. And even though she told herself this over and over, she could never come to believe it with all her heart. A knock on the door startled Kagome out of her reverie. "Come in," she invited.

Kikyo bounced in and paused just inside the doorway, frowning. "Every time I come into your room, you are staring out the window. You must tell me what you see that fascinates you so."

Kikyo took up a spot beside Kagome and carefully leaned over the ledge of the window, following her gaze. "Gads!" Kikyo gasped. "Please tell me you do not stare at that dreary water!"

When Kagome did not reply, but simply moved away from the window to sit on the thick embroidered blanket on the bed, Kikyo sighed. "Really, Kagome. You are much too disheartening these last days. I wish what I'm going to tell you would make you feel better, but I'm afraid it won't." Kagome raised weary, burning eyes to her sister. Kikyo shook her head. She went to Kagome and knelt at her feet. "Kagome, what is wrong with you? I have never seen you this miserable. Is it Mother?" "No," Kagome mumbled. "It isn't Mother." "Then what? Please tell me."

A sad smile tugged at Kagome's lips and she shrugged helplessly. "Very well. But you can't keep it a secret forever, Kagome." Kikyo nervously smoothed out the folds of her skirt. "InuYasha and I are going." "Going where?" Kagome echoed with something close to panic in her voice.

"Home, of course, to our castle. InuYasha has villages to oversee and duties to perform." Kikyo smiled just as glumly as Kagome. "Besides, you have your army to lead. Wasn't it you who said the English were coming to France?"

"But you just got here." "We've been here for seven months now. It's you who have not been here." "I'm so sorry, Kikyo. I've been preoccupied." "Yes, I know." "When are you going?" Kagome asked. "Tomorrow." "So soon?" "I'm afraid so," Kikyo replied.

Kagome bowed her head, staring at her hands that rested in her lap.

Kikyo reached up and traced the curve of Kagome's chin. "Poor Kagome. Don't be sad. I couldn't bear it. We must be happy. We have only a few hours left together. I will dine with you later tonight." Kikyo climbed to her feet, carefully pulling her green skirts away from her feet. Her brown eyes, usually so happy and carefree, looked uneasy. "But now, Mother is waiting for you in her private room."

* * *

Hey all sorry it took so long for this update. mom was in the hospital and I had to much to do to be able to get to this. I am planning on another update or two this week. Please leave a little contribution in the review box. (Feed the writer)

* * *

Hey all. I am so sorry. It was brought to my attention that I kave been writing Father instead of Mother in My fanfictions. To make everything clear It is her mother she is trying to impress. I've been worried about my dad so I guess it's showing in my typing. I am so sorry. I will change what I can as soon as I can.


	21. Chapter 20

Kagome remembered her mother's private room as a small warm room where she had held her in her lap by the fireplace and told her stories. Now, it was anything but warm. She saw her mother leaning against the stone hearth, staring into the embers of the fading fire, her rigid back to her. She was surprised to see Kohaku seated in one of the plush red velvet chairs that surrounded a small wooden table. When her questioning eyes caught his, he turned away.

There was a tapestry on the wall farthest from the hearth depicting the slaughter of a small fox by two armored men. She instantly felt kinship with the fox.

"Leave us, Kohaku," Sango Taija said in a quiet voice.

Kohaku rose stiffly, hesitated a moment, and finally strode past Kagome, his head bent. Kagome frowned as he passed her.

When the door closed silently behind him, the foreboding that had followed her down the stairs settled on her shoulders and made her skin crawl. Even though Kohaku was gone, she felt more trapped than before. One defenseless fox against one mighty woman.

Jean Claude said, "Sit down, Kagome."

The feeling of dread grew, stabbing Kagome's stomach, and her knees crumbled, landing her in the seat Kohaku had vacated.

The tension stretched like a bow strung too tightly. Kagome dared not move, dreading its eventual release. She watched silently as her mother stared deeply into the fire. Her blue silk gown reflected the firelight and when she turned toward her, the white fur around her collar looked red, almost matching the red in her cheeks. Her face was unreadable, but her usually bright eyes were hard.

"At first you had many suitors. All of which you conveniently ignored."

Kagome bowed her head. Her mother should have just posted a banner offering her to the highest bidder.

"No, I'm afraid there are very few. Most took back their offers." Her voice was strong, but strangely sad.

Good, Kagome thought. How could she hope to lead an army as someone's wife? He would want her home to produce heirs.

"I want to hear it from your own lips," Sango Taija said. "Tell me you did not free the Prince of Demons."

All her years of swordplay could not protect her from her accusation. She could not parry her mother's anger or dodge the anguish in her voice. Agony sliced through her like the sharp edge of a battle sword. Where had she heard such a thing? How could he believe it? Sota. She opened her mouth to answer, to tell her the Prince of Demons was dead, but she promptly closed it. Sota had not believed her, so why would her mother?

Sango Taija stared coldly at her daughter.

Kagome stood, stepping toward her. Her eyes burned with the effort of keeping her tears in check. She had to believe her! She stretched out her hands. "Mother, please. I only wanted to bring him to you. I wanted him to kneel before you so that –"

"How could you?" she groaned, not hearing her confession, turning away from her. "You released him so that he could kill more of our people. Don't you see what you've done?"

Slowly, Kagome dropped her arms. She knew Sesshomaru could never raise a sword again, never kill again, for he was dead. I wanted to make you proud of me, she thought. That's all I ever wanted. And for Sesshomaru to love me. To tell me I was beautiful. But I couldn't do either. He did not love me. And you aren't proud of me. I have failed. Kagome struggled to straighten her back and raise her quivering chin. "I have done nothing wrong."

"Nothing wrong?!" She screeched. "You have betrayed your Queen and your country!"

She really believed she had freed Sesshomaru. She would never believe that the Prince of Demons was dead. She would never believe that her daughter was innocent of this betrayal.

"I feel I have been more than fair with you, Kagome. I have nurtured your whims for a long time. And I am sorry for what I must do now, but –"

Kagome's mind raced; her heart pounded. Something terrible was about to happen and she could not just sit there and let it. "Mother –"

"The only marriage offer that remains open, and the one which I'm afraid I must accept, is from Count Naraku."

"No," Kagome gasped, stumbling toward her mother. "You can't." Everything she had ever heard about Count Naraku raced through her mind. He was a hermit who was more than five decades old and had yet to see an heir to his estates. He had had five wives, all of whom were rumored to have been locked in a tower and tortured because they had produced no son. He was a monster!

"I'm sorry, Kagome," Sango Taija said. "Truly I am. But it is already done."

"Why must you accept? I am the leader of an Eastern army! You do not have to –"

"You think your men will follow a traitor? I am saving your life. If you return to the army, you will be stabbed in the back at the first opportunity." She spoke more coldly than she had ever done before.

Kagome lurched away from her, horrified. Her own men would never stab her in the back! They would not believe these lies that her family believed. Even Kohaku… "Mother…"

She turned away from her, her shoulders slumped.

Kagome felt her legs going numb. She raised her chin, again fighting desperately to keep back her fear and her tears. "When is the wedding to take place?" she managed to ask, her voice growing weak.

"In two months," She said softly. "Adequate time for you to prepare yourself and your things."

Two months, she thought. That would be November. A perfect amount of time for ice to form around my heart.

She turned and slowly walked to the door. She paused, her hand on the door handle. She wanted to tell her the truth, tell her that she didn't free the Prince of Demons. But she wouldn't believe her. Just as Sota did not. If she did tell her mother the truth of what happened, she was afraid the guilt hiding beneath the surface of her thoughts would rise into her voice and betray her. And even with her confession, there would be questions she had no reasonable answers for. At least, no answers her mother would accept. She would surely wonder how Sesshomaru had gotten into her bedroom, and wonder why she hadn't cried out in alarm when she had the chance.

Her hand clenched around the door handle. Kagome wanted to say she was sorry for hurting her, for putting her through this. She wanted to tell her mother how much she loved her. But she couldn't. Her hand trembled with the effort it took to keep her emotions in check.

She has already turned her back on me, she thought. Kagome opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, closing it softly behind her.

* * *

"Come in," Kagome called at the insistent knocking. She sat on the floor in a corner of her room, the leggings and tunic she wore her only means of defiance.

Kikyo pushed the door open. "Kagome, have you forgotten that we were to dine together?"

"I'm sorry, Kikyo. I wasn't feeling well. I'm not very hungry," Kagome replied, looking up from whittling a piece of wood.

Kikyo shook her head. "Another arrow? I think the castle's armory will be supplied by you alone."

Kagome grinned half-heartedly.

Kikyo closed the door behind her. She looked worriedly at Kagome, who sat cross-legged, with a knife in one hand and a piece of wood in the other. "Is it true? Did Mother really betroth you to that horrible hermit?"

Kagome nodded and began to run the knife against the wood again.

"Oh, Kagome. Why on earth did She do it?"

"She believes I did something dishonorable," Kagome replied. Her brows creased slightly in concentration as she gazed intently at her whittling.

"You didn't free him, did you?"

Startled, Kagome glanced up at her sister, hurt at the doubt in Kikyo's voice. She studied Kikyo's childish yet sincere face until she saw the doubt replaced by embarrassment. Finally, Kagome looked at the window, which was not shadowed with darkness. Kikyo deserved to hear the truth. Perhaps her only sister would believe her. "He jumped out the window, into the moat." Kagome heard Kikyo's sharp intake of breath, then her soft footsteps as she approached. Kikyo sat beside her.

"So that's why you stare out that window."

Kagome waited for the reproach for having Sesshomaru in her room.

"Did he love you?" she asked, leaning toward Kagome.

Kagome looked at her in surprise. There was no condemnation in Kikyo's eyes, only sympathy and understanding. "No," Kagome admitted quietly.

"What will you do?"

"I suppose I must marry Count Naraku."

"I want you to come with InuYasha and me."

"Defy Mother?" Kagome asked, aghast. When Kikyo nodded, Kagome shook her head. "I couldn't."

"You can't go to Naraku's Castle! They say his last wife fell from the tower window to her death. More likely she jumped to escape that horrible man, or worse yet, was pushed!"

"I can still fight for The East. Whether they want me to or not."

"Please reconsider, Kagome. Come with us."

Kagome glanced at Kikyo. "And InuYasha agrees?"

Kikyo dropped her eyes under Kagome's probing gaze. "I – well, I haven't spoken with him yet, but I shall."

Kagome could never go with her. She could never come between Kikyo and InuYasha. And that was certainly what would happen. Kagome couldn't ruin Kikyo's happiness. She shook her head. "I appreciate the offer, Kikyo. But no."

"If you change your mind, know that you will always be welcome in my home."

Kagome reached out and took Kikyo's small hand. Not all her family had abandoned her. Her sister still believed in her, and for that Kagome would be forever grateful. She nodded, feeling the first spark of hope ignite within her soul.

She did not know how badly it would be dashed.


	22. Chapter 21

It had started with two maids whispering. When Kagome stared at them, they stopped and glared angrily at her. As a puzzled look came over her face, they separated and continued on their way. It happened again in the main hall, and then again in the stables. The gazes were scornful and furious. Former friends and strangers alike began to turn their backs as she approached them. Kagome suddenly found that where yesterday she had been a famed knight, today she was a leper. She avoided the Great Hall and the practice yard, terrified that her Mother had been right, that her men believed the savage rumors.

Kagome stared out at the road below the sitting room window. Traders and merchants moved toward the castle door in a long line of carts and wagons. The smell of the forest just beyond the town wafted to her senses on a light breeze and she lifted her eyes to the tall trees that towered over the thatched roofs.

She heard the door open behind her and turned. Kohaku's head was lowered as he entered the room. Kagome's heart brightened. She had not seen Kohaku for a week and she missed him. Perhaps she could talk him into sparring with her. "Kohaku," she said happily, pushing herself from the window.

Kohaku's gaze snapped sharply up to hers and Kagome saw the slight drop of his mouth and the surprise in his eyes. For just a moment, his brow furrowed and his lips thinned in misery, before he bowed his head once again and turned away from her.

Kagome felt as though he had physically shoved her away. Hurt flared in her body, constricting her chest. Finally, she shrank back to the window, agonizingly aware that he was ashamed of her, of what he believed she had done. The rumors had conquered even her faithful brother.

"Did Mother summon you here?" Kohaku asked stiffly. Kagome answered with similar formality. "Yes."

Silence settled between them like an unwanted guest. Kagome returned to gazing out the window. She did not see the traders or villains; she only saw the far and distant trees as they swayed in an unseen wind, beckoning to her. She and Kohaku had always been close. He had always respected her, cherished her. But now, in his eyes, she was a Dark Priestess.

The door opened again. Kagome turned her head and her eyes locked on Sota. She watched the anger and disgust settle over his features as he saw her. She raised her chin, narrowing her eyes to mirror his look before turning away from him.

When her Mother entered the room, Kagome did not turn around to see her softly close the door and clasp her hands in front of her. "We are all aware of the events that have taken place within the last week, bringing disgrace and dishonor to our name."

Kagome's fantasy returned: she would tell her Mother that Sesshomaru was dead and the rumors were all lies, and her Mother would smile, embrace her, and whisper, "I knew it all along." As quickly as it materialized in her mind's eyes, the fantasy vanished. In truth, she would never believe her. People wanted to believe that a woman was weaker than a man. It wasn't proper for a woman to be out swinging a sword, defending her country. Now, it made no difference if it was true or not. And Kagome could not prove that Sesshomaru was dead. No bodies had been found around the moat's bank.

"However, thank the Lord, Count Naraku is willing to overlook these matters," Jean Claude continued.

Kagome looked out the window. The sun was bright and hot, promising a warm day. Kagome planned to go to the glen and practice later. She needed to swing a heavy sword, to work out some of the tension she felt.

"Naturally, since you are to be married, it is not possible for you to lead an army." Kagome froze. She won't do it. She can't. "As of today, Sota will lead the men." Kagome did not move. Her body was numb. Everything she valued was taken from her. "Kagome? Did you hear me?" Sango Taija asked after a moment.

Her voice came to her as if from a great distance. Kagome could not understand what was happening. She could not find the strength that had once flowed so strongly through her heart. She could not find the words to voice her objection to all the wrongs that were happening to her. She could not find the confidence to stand up against her accusers. The Priestess of Death was gone, and in her place guilt ruled.

"Kagome?" Sango Taija repeated.

In her mind's eye, she saw the door closing. The lock sliding into place boomed in her head. She clutched the ledge of the window as blackness invaded her vision. For a moment, her world spun and she thought she was going to faint. I am the Priestess of Death, feared by all of The Eastern Lands enemies, she told herself, her knuckles turning white as she clung to her ledge of consciousness, struggling to find the rage she knew she should feel. Slowly, the blotchy darkness receded, but the flame of her soul remained a dying ember.

"Yes, Mother," she replied meekly. "Good," Sango Taija responded dubiously. "Then Sota, the army is yours." "Thank you, Mother," Sota said. Kagome turned and left the room, her head bowed like a compliant servant being dismissed.

The barren wasteland of unending white mist spread out before her. Kagome walked forward, not knowing where she was heading or even where she had come from. Her steps were sluggish and unsure as she continued on. Something behind her, a noise, made her stop. She turned to see that the cloud of white had turned completely red, forming a curtain of crimson. Her shoulders drooped as she turned back and moved deeper into the fog. She stared at her feet, watching the red seep out from beneath each step she took. Feeling like a poison, she moved forward, infecting the purity of the white cloud.

Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks. A shadowed figure rose before her in a cloud of dark vapors. His shining suit of battle armor blended with the mist, as if it were the chain mail of a ghost. He floated, his hands on his hips, surveying the area before him as if it were new territory to conquer. Finally, his gaze came to rest on her, his golden eyes sparkling like hot oil, hypnotizing her with the force of his presence. His lip curved in a grin and Kagome felt herself drawn to him like a warrior drawn to the sound of a battle cry. He lifted a hand and reached out to take her into his possession…

* * *

Kagome sat bolt upright, her breath coming in rapid gulps. He is alive, she thought. She felt it to the core of her being. He is alive! Her heart pounded wildly with renewed hope.

Kagome flew from her bed and was running out the door, racing down the hall in the blink of an eye. When she came to Kohaku's door, she threw it open and dashed inside.

He sat up, reaching for his weapon, but her voice stopped him. "Kohaku!" "By all the saints, you startled me, Kagome. Do you wish to be headless?" he asked. Kagome paid him no mind as she leapt onto his bed, her eyes wide with excitement and anxiety. "Kohaku, you must help me search the moat!" "What?" he asked, baffled. "Please. We must search the moat," Kagome repeated desperately. "Good heavens, why?" Kohaku demanded, leaning back on his hands so he could regard her. "We've already searched the banks." "Sesshomaru is alive." "He escaped. Of course he's alive."

Kagome sat back on her heels, her hands twisting in her lap. "He jumped out the window into the moat." Kohaku leaned toward her and, through the moonlight, she could see the questions racing through his mind as clearly as if they were written on his face. His dark brows knit. "How do you know this?"

Kagome looked down at her hands, feeling the head of his questioning as if she were being interrogated. When she didn't answer, Kohaku persisted, "Kagome, you're not telling me everything." Kagome paused again, but when she looked up Kohaku's scowl was so fierce that she thought he was going to strangle her right there. "He jumped into the moat from my bedroom window."

Kohaku straightened, his features suddenly shadowed. "What was he doing in your room?" "I went down to the dungeon," Kagome explained, "only to find that the door was open. Sesshomaru had an accomplice. Someone helped him escape. They took me prisoner." "Did they hurt you?" Kohaku demanded. When Kagome shook her head he continued, "How did they get into your room?" "I – I led them up there," Kagome stated. Kohaku's brow darkened with indignation and Kagome hurried on. "I never though he would jump out my window. Never."

"Why did you lead him to your room? Why didn't you call for guards?" "Oh, Kohaku." Kagome looked down at her hands that were clasped in her lap. "I couldn't. I didn't intend him to escape, but… I just wanted to keep him safe until after the joust." Kohaku paused for a long moment. Finally, he said, "The fall from your window would have killed him." "But no bodies were ever found around the moat. We have to search the moat. I have to know for sure."

Kohaku sat quietly in the shadows cast by the moon's frosty rays. He leaned back even further and Kagome could not see his features at all. "I would do it myself," Kagome murmured, looking away from him. "But the men won't take orders from me any longer." "Why didn't you tell me this before?" he asked.

Kagome wouldn't look at him for a moment, embarrassed, ashamed that Kohaku had thought she had brought him to her room for one last tryst, afraid that Kohaku would think the same thing. "You couldn't even look at me in Mother's sitting room."

"I was ashamed," he admitted quietly. Kagome tried not to let the hurt show on her face, but she was unsuccessful. "You see? You believed I had freed him." "Kagome," Kohaku said, his voice tender, "I was ashamed of myself." Kagome raised startled eyes to him. "I knew that Mother was planning to marry you to the count. I tried to dissuade her, but she wouldn't listen. I felt as though I had failed you." Relief washed through Kagome, engulfing her in its calming pool. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "No," Kohaku insisted. "It is I who will apologize. I should not have let her do this to you. The marriage, your army…" Kagome raised her hand and gently cupped his cheek. "Thank you." "What will you do if he is alive?" Kohaku wondered.

Slowly, Kagome's hand dropped and she turned to stare out at the night sky. The moon was high in the star-speckled night sky, almost full except for a sliver carved out of the top. Kagome was silent for a long moment. Then she whispered, "I don't know."

The torches illuminated the murky black water, casting a red glow over the moat. Two men rose from the depths of the water and moved toward the shore, dragging a large object behind them. As they slowly approached, the dark object that they pulled became the figure of a man.

They dropped him, face down, at Kohaku's feet. Kohaku held the torch above the body. Light Silver hair, strong physique. With a gentle kick, he rolled the body onto its back. The face was a mass of mashed bone, broken beyond recognition. One dark eye was open, rolled back into what remained of the head.

Kohaku glanced over the murky water to the place where the body had been discovered. Then his eyes scaled the castle walls, up to the tower directly above the murky grave. It was Kagome's room. Kohaku heard a sound from behind him and turned. From the darkness of the road that lined the moat, Sota emerged. "What are you doing, Brother?"

* * *

"It was him, Kagome." Kohaku's voice was firm.

Kagome sat heavily on her bed. Suddenly, she felt as though all her breath had been sucked from her. Deep down inside, she had been afraid they would find his body in the moat's dark waters. But she still could not believe that he could be dead. "I want to see his body."

Kohaku lowered his eyes. When he failed to respond, Kagome raised her head sharply. "What?" "Sota is displaying it throughout the streets," Kohaku replied. "There was nothing I could do." The horrifying image of Sesshomaru's body, bloated with the moat's brackish waters, dragged through the dirt of the streets behind Sota's horse for all to see, filled her mind. Kagome shot from her bed, her fists clenched into tight balls. She headed for the door, but Kohaku caught her arm.

"You can't, Kagome. You can't stop him." "I can and I will!" she snapped. She tried to yank free, but Kohaku's grip was tight. "And what are you going to tell him?" he demanded. "I won't let him drag Sesshomaru's body through the dirt." "The people already think you freed him. Don't make them think worse." "Worse? How could they possibly think worse?"

"They'll say you were in love with the Prince of Darkness! He jumped out your window, Kagome. Your bedroom window! What else could they possibly think?" Kohaku shook her, trying to get her to see the treason in her actions. "You hid him in your room so he would be safe." Kagome roared, pulling her arm free and facing Kohaku with fury. "He was my prisoner! My responsibility. Could I live with myself knowing that my countrymen had killed him on the field of honor!" "Better in battle than wasting away in a dungeon."

Kagome fumed silently. She did not know if she would have been content letting him sit in the dungeon. All she knew was that she had to stop Sota. I will not allow him to display Sesshomaru like some prize, she thought. I have to stop him. But first, I have to get past Kohaku. Kagome dropped her head, forcing her shoulders into a slouch. "You're right." Kagome whispered, her voice sad and contrite. "He is the enemy. And he is dead."

Kohaku's brows came together in disbelief. "I'm sorry, but with what happened between us…it is difficult sometimes to see him as my enemy." Kohaku nodded. "You must let him go, Kagome. It will do you no good to dwell on it." "I know," she murmured.

Kohaku turned and walked to the window. He gazed out over the rooftops and fields of the village. "Give it time, Kagome. Sota will forget and all will be as it was." He took a deep breath of fresh air. "Will you tell Mother the truth now?" The silence stretched. When Kagome didn't answer, Kohaku turned.

The door was open and Kagome was gone.

* * *

She rode her horse like a madwoman, barreling through the streets, a cloud of dust churning behind her racing mount. The streets were strangely empty, the shops closed early. She sent a group of chickens squawking, scattering them in all directions as she tore through the town, looking for Sota. Finally, she came upon a farmer in his field. She reined up to ask him where Sota was when she saw a cloud of smoke rising in the distance, near the outskirts of the village.

Kagome spurred her horse, heading for the thick black cloud that billowed up into the red sky of the setting sun. As she neared the last house, the stench of fire and burning flesh made her skin crawl, her heart pound with fear. When she guided her horse around the corner, her heart stopped.

Most of the villagers, men, women and children, were gathered around a large bonfire. The flames licked the red sky. In the middle of the fire, Kagome saw the blackened form of a burning body. For a moment, she could not move, frozen to the saddle under the heat of the flames. Oh, my God. Sesshomaru.

Anguish gripped her heart. She stared at the part of the burning body that had once been the face – now nothing but a black shell. Sesshomaru's image rose in her mind, his strong chin, his sensual lips, his mysterious eyes, even the cut on his cheek that she had given him. Tears rose in her eyes. Look what he has done to Sesshomaru's face, Kagome thought despairingly. That handsome face.

She dismounted, pushing and fighting her way through the peasants, making a path to the front of the crowd. Finally, she found herself standing in the intense heat of the blaze. It was so hot that she had to put up her hand to prevent her face from burning. Her hair shifted slightly under the waves of hot air that assaulted her.

Kagome peered beneath her hand, through the ripples of heat that the flames fanned into the air. The fire had eaten away the man's skin, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not absolutely identify the man as Sesshomaru. I will never know for sure, she thought with a desperation that ate away at her sanity. Tears burned her eyes. Finally, the smell of charred flesh made her gag and turn away.

Sota approached her. Kagome didn't see her brother; she saw her torturer, the man who had condemned her to an infinity of uncertainty. She launched herself at him, her hands curved into claws. "You son of a bitch!" she screamed over the roar of the flames. "Do you know what you've done?"

Sota grabbed her wrists before she could slash at him, but he was caught off guard and the impact of her body sent him onto his back. She fought wildly against his hold, shouting, "You torched him! You burned his body!"

Sota flipped her onto her back, easily straddling her body, forcing her arms above her head. Kagome would not give up; she kicked and screamed like a cornered cat.

He shook her, shouting, "Stop it! Kagome!" She twisted her arms in an attempt to free herself, bucking and flailing her legs. It wasn't until his hand struck her cheek, hard, that she stilled her fight. The tears came easily then, running from her eyes like little streams. Sota released her, sliding from her. Kagome sat up, burying her face in the crook of her arms.

Sota leaned close to her to whisper, "For God's sake, show some dignity." Kagome peered up at him with red, swollen eyes. "You bastard" she murmured. "He was the enemy," Sota retorted hotly. "I'll never know for sure," she said, tears welling again in her eyes. "I'll never know it was him." "It was him," he said positively.

Kagome stared at him for a long moment. Perhaps he was sure. But she would never know for certain. There would always be that doubt. And it was all because Sota had to destroy his enemy. Slowly she rose. "I hate you," she gritted, before moving into the crowd. They opened a path for her and she walked stoically to her horse, mounted, and turned toward the castle.

She did not look back.

* * *

The rage in her heart remained strong the next morning. Kagome sought solace in the stables with her war horse, vigorously brushing his coat and thick white mane. She had just managed to get all the tangles out of his hair and was reaching over his back to run the brush through it again when she heard hoof beats enter the courtyard, followed by a shout of welcome.

She placed the brush on the floor and hurried to the doorway to see a man dismount from a black horse. Kagome noticed that the horse's muzzle was flecked with white foam; the animal had obviously been ridden hard. She watched Sota greet the man with a clasp of arms. They exchanged words and Sota nodded before turning toward the castle. The man glanced around the courtyard once. That was when Kagome saw the insignia etched upon his tunic. He was the constable's man! A tingle of excitement shot up her spine. The man was a messenger sent by the Queen's closest confidant.

She hurried after them and entered the Great Hall just in time to see her Mother appear. Kagome pressed back against the cold stone wall, blending into the shadows. She could hear their words perfectly as they echoed through the room.

"Greetings from the constable," the messenger said. "I have a message for the Priestess of Death."

A message! For me! The constable must want me to fight with them! Kagome thought. After all these days of pain, loneliness, and scorn, someone finally wanted her. And this someone was, next to the Queen, the mightiest person in all The East! Kagome's feet moved instinctively. She began to step out of the shadows.

"My daughter is to be married," Sango Taija said. "She will fight in no more campaigns."

She froze instantly. For a brief moment she had completely forgotten that she no longer led an army. The melancholy that had plagued her these last days consumed her again. Never to fight again, never to brandish a sword. Instead, to bear an old hermit sons for however long she could survive his cruelty.

The messenger hesitated a moment before saying, "It is a great loss to The East. I will inform the constable of this tragedy." "Tragedy? She is of marrying age," Sango Taija answered defensively. "Forgive me. I meant no insult. But it is a tragedy to lose such a great knight. The East has need of all her warriors, what with The Westerners in her realm." "I command the army now," Sota spoke up loudly. "We are, of course, at the constable's disposal." "The constable has ordered all lords and their armies to Rouge Pass." "We can be there in three days." "I will tell the constable," the messenger replied. "First you must rest," Sango Taija stated. "Come, I have food and ale."

Their voices faded as they moved from the room toward the kitchens. Kagome turned and slowly climbed several steps before her legs seemed to give out beneath her and she sat down heavily. Her army would leave without her, with a new leader. She was never to fight for her country again. There had to be something she could do. She could not sit on this step and let the world go by without her. She was a woman of action. She was a De Higurashi! Then how come she could not find the will to rise to her feet and storm down the stairs to confront her Mother?

Kagome stood and moved up the stairs toward her bedroom.

* * *

Kagome sat in a small alcove near a window. She stared down at the sword she held in her lap. The mirrored metal reflected her image. Her long hair hung over her shoulders, dark tendrils reaching for the blade and curling lovingly around it.

I cannot imagine never holding you again, she thought. Never wearing my armor. Never feeling that thrill of riding into a battle.

The cold metal sat in her hands, strangely calming in its hypnotic power. Suddenly, shouts from the courtyard below reached her ears and she lifted her head to gaze out the window. Below, she could see her army preparing to leave for Rouge Pass. She scanned the rows of men until she came to the head, near the doors of the castle.

With the help of his squire, Sota was mounting his warhorse. A movement near the doors of the castle caught her attention. Her Mother was descending the stairs, her chest puffed out proudly. Why is she so proud of Sota? she wondered. Why does she bid farewell to my brother with a smile when all she has ever had for me was a scowl? Slowly, as her Mother stopped at Sota's side, she rose to her feet. Why is there admiration when she stares at Sota? Kagome demanded silently. When for me there is nothing but disapproval? Sango Taija spoke to Sota. Kagome could not hear her words, but she saw Sota's return smile. Her hand tightened into a fist around the handle of her sword. I will have the answers, she vowed.

Lady Sango Taija De Higurashi gazed in admiration at her youngest son. Sota was mounted on his mahogany warhorse, his bright golden armor resplendent in the morning's misty grayness. Sango Taija's eyes sparkled and her voice carried with pride as she said, "Sota, you do justice to the name De Higurashi."

Kohaku nudged his horse up beside Sota. "Where is Kagome?" At the mention of her name, the glow on Sango Taija's face dimmed and she turned to Kohaku, shrugging. "In her room." Kohaku's dark eyes shifted to her window, and Sango noticed the disappointment written on his face at finding the space empty. Kohaku addressed Sota. "The men are ready."

Sota nodded. "Then we depart." He rode forward, leading the way toward the town where peasants waited in the streets to cheer the knights on to victory. With a sigh of contentment, Sango turned and walked into her castle. Never in all her life had she felt so pleased. Her son was leading the army to battle the Westerners.

She walked jauntily through the hallway and was almost at the stairs when she heard soft footsteps and turned. She approached him in red Leggings and a cream-colored tunic. Her back was straight; her dark hair swirled around her slender shoulders as she moved, like coils of wispy smoke; her blue eyes flashed in the light of the torches on the wall. Her hand rested on the pommel of her sheathed sword. She did not know the woman who approached her, had never seen the likes of her smoldering fire before.

"Mother," Kagome said. "I would have words with you."

Sango nodded reluctantly. She led the way to a large room. Five precious books were on pedestals near the far wall. This was her library. She shut the door after Kagome entered. Sunlight streamed in through the large windows across from the door. A fire had been lit in the fireplace between the two windows.

"You're very proud of him, aren't you?" she asked softly, a tinge of remorse edging her voice. Sango did not turn. She kept her hands on the handle, almost as if she were keeping open an avenue of escape. "Why, Mother? I want to know why you never looked at me that way." "I cannot be proud of you any longer," She replied softly.

"I am not speaking of now. I am speaking of when I was knighted. When I won the battle of Kitsune Run. When I brought the Prince of Demons to you." Sango replayed the events she's named. Fragmented images flashed before her mind's eye accompanied by sharp and vivid emotions.

Embarrassment. A slip of a girl in plate armor standing boldly before her neighbors, her friends. How could her daughter, a maiden, become a warrior? She should not be rescuing; she should be being rescued !

Sorrow. A castle in flames, thick smoke rolling from its innards. Armored men on horseback shouting victory. A young woman strolling toward her, carefully stepping over fallen knights and horses. No man would want a woman who could cause this much death.

Curiosity. A tall, dark man walking toward him through a room lined with people. This was the legend. The great Prince of Demons. Somewhere in the shadows, her little girl stood. Through all the flashes of pictures, the whispers floated. "Does she really have a heart of ice?" "Her kiss enslaves men to her will." "She is the Priestess of Death."

"I am a De Higurashi, too, Mother. I am a warrior. I deserve the respect you show Sota, not a casual dismissal when I come home," Kagome said. Sango turned and answered, "Mayhap you can gain the respect of your future husband. But I have no respect for a member of my family who betrays me." There was a long silence and Sango almost regretted the words she had spoken, but she believed them.

Kagome stared hard at her Mother, finally saying, "I worked my entire life to please you. When I was young, I saw the way you looked at Sota and Kohaku when they were training, heard how you boasted of them. Just once I wanted you to look at me the way you did them. Everything I did, I did for you. I may have disappointed you, but you disappointed me, too." Kagome added definitively. "I'm sorry, Mother. I will not marry the count."

"What?" Kagome raised her chin slightly. "I am the Priestess of Death and –" "You are my daughter!" Sango yelled. Kagome continued implacably, "And I will finish my days in battle." "I forbid it," Sango said, her eyes dark with fury. "You will remain at the castle and marry Count Naraku. I have indulged your fantasy for far too long, Kagome. That's been my biggest mistake. I should have stopped this nonsense when I had the opportunity."

Kagome's eyes narrowed with bitter resolve as she stared hard at her Mother. Then, with determined steps, she brushed past her stiffly as she moved to the door. "I forbid it, Kagome!" Sango hollered after her. "Do you hear me? By all that's sacred, you will marry the count!" Kagome slammed the door shut as she left the room. Sango's fingers curled tightly into a fist. With a loud roar of rage, she smashed her fist into the small wooden table beside the door, the wood splintered beneath her fury, and the table collapsed.

* * *

Hey all. Been a while hasn't it. I worked on this all night and wanted to get it up as soon as I could. Hope you like these two chapters. As always. Please leave a contribution in the little box below.


	23. Chapter 22

Sota's horse shied to the side, whinnying nervously. He steadied the beast with an easy swivel of the reins.

Lightning ripped the sky in two, striking the barren field far off to their left. A cloud of dust exploded upward from the impact of the sharp spear of energy. The formerly white clouds had darkened quickly to a row of dirty cotton churning toward them from the left. The wind started to pick up and as its whistling grew louder the troops quieted.

Suddenly, Kohaku brought his animal to a halt, straining to see across the empty wasteland.

Sota followed his brother's gaze. The empty field extended into the dark gray horizon. The end of the barren earth was nowhere in sight. As thunder rumbled above their heads, a dark dot appeared on the horizon, clearly visible against the unblemished gray sky.

Lightning flashed again, this time high in the air, stretching its crooked fingers toward the army. The black dot in the field grew until they could see that it was a horse. A horse riding hard, its rider driving it forward.

A clap of thunder startled a horse near Sota and the animal reared, its forelegs kicking wildly at empty air. Still the rider came, outlined by streaks of lightning, hailed by booming thunder. Sota drew his sword, the metal hissing like a snake as it came out of the sheath. "We meet this demon with death." "Hold!" Kohaku called, seizing the reins of Sota's steed so he could not move. When Sota snapped his gaze to bore into him, Kohaku continued, "I know that horse."

Sota returned his gaze to the rider. Recognition slowly dawned on his face. "My Lord," he gasped. Thunder clashed in the dark sky as drops of rain began to pummel the earth. The rider stopped not twenty feet from Sota, the white warhorse pawing the ground as if in challenge. For a long moment, neither moved until Sota sheathed his sword and, blinking the rain from his eyes, muttered, "Welcome, Priestess."

* * *

Kagome removed her helmet. It felt slick in her wet hands, the metal cold and damp from the persistent rain. Reverently, she placed the helmet on the ground beside her sleeping mat. It had been Kohaku's suggestion that she share his tent, and she had agreed. After days of riding, even her bones felt sore.

The army had arrived in Rouen just before the sun had set. She remained with the men to make camp while her brothers went into town to find the Constable Charles d'Albret, the king's commander who was to lead the fight against the English. Kagome reached up to untie the leather straps holding her shoulder plates in place. Kohaku had not asked what she was doing there. Sota had not spoken to her at all.

She pulled the second shoulder plate from her arm and unstrung the straps that held the arm plates on. It was difficult removing her armor without a squire, but she could not ask someone to help her. Her pride would not allow it. And she had left Mel and Gavin back at the castle, not knowing what fate had in store for her. Finally, she removed the final layer of her armor – the chain mail.

Kagome had not been invited to the meeting with the constable, and in a way, she was glad. If he, too, suspected her of treason… It was hard enough riding all this way with the men, some she had known for years, scorning her. She had seen the shifting of the ranks, the moving away, wherever she drew near. She saw the bitter glances from people who used to respect her.

Kagome bent and unsheathed her sword. As she turned it, she caught sight of her reflection in the flat edge of the cold steel. Her hair hung down to her waist, dull with perspiration and dust. Her eyes were ringed with weariness, her complexion flaxen. How could Sesshomaru have ever thought she was beautiful? She remembered his strong arms as he held her close, his breath hot on her cheek. And his eyes. How bright with passion they were, glowing like candlelight as they swept up and down her body, enflaming it. Suddenly, a chill swept up her spine. She felt eyes on her. Eyes burning with desire. She gasped and raised her head. But the tent was empty. For a moment, she had been sure that Sesshomaru…

Ghosts.

Shaking her head sadly, she turned her gaze to her weapon. Its handle was cold, its blade sharp. It was no comfort. It could not love her. And she could not love it. Not anymore. Not when one man's image was engraved upon her heart. Her skin trembled for his caress; her heart ached for his presence. What am I doing? she thought. He is dead! I will never see him again. Kagome lay back on the mat that served as her bed. His face hovered in the dark just above her, as it had since he had leapt out the window. But tonight, a restless feeling in her lower stomach would make sleep evasive.

A muffled sound. Kagome rolled instinctively away from it. Through the gray darkness, she saw the shadowy outline of a man, then the flash of a blade as it sliced downward, missing her by mere inches, imbedding itself into the covers she had just rolled out of.

Kagome shot to her feet, eyeing the man as he pulled the blade from her blankets. He was poised like a cobra, ready to strike at any moment. Kagome's eyes shifted downward to her mat. It was not the mat she saw, but her sword that lay beneath the covers. She stepped back, hoping to draw him away from her weapon. Even in the dark, Kagome could see the hatred that flamed from his eyes. He straightened, stepping over the mat.

"Traitor." The snarl came from the darkness like an arrow, piercing Kagome's heart. As she staggered back, the man lunged, swinging his dagger out. She thought she was prepared, but the bite of the blade as it caught the front of her wrist sent sharp pain spearing through Kagome's arm. She tore her hand back, quickly clutching at the open wound, and stepped away from him. She had misjudged his reflexes.

Block out the pain, she silently told herself. I must get to my sword. She wavered beneath his gaze and, as she'd expected, the man closed in for the kill. She knocked his dagger arm aside with her bloodied fist and brought her knee into his stomach. She turned and dived for her sword.

Her fingertips brushed the metal handle of her weapon. She had it! Then the man seized her hair, yanking her head back sharply. She uttered a small cry as she was drawn away from the sword, her hand empty.

Through the stinging pain, she heard the tent flap swooshing aside. Then, the scrap of metal against metal and suddenly the pain was gone. Kagome lurched forward as the man released her, closing her hand over the handle of her sword. She whirled, weapon raised.

The shadow of two figures stood outlined against the white tent. Sota's sword arm was extended and his blade was lodged in the man's chest. The man collapsed to the ground.

Relief flooded Kagome so completely that for a moment she was unaware of the throbbing in her arm. Only when the pain flared did she remember she was hurt. She dropped the sword to grasp her wrist and sat heavily on her mat.

Sota pulled his sword out of the body and turned to face Kagome. "Why did you come here? To my army?" he demanded sharply. Kagome looked up at him, baffled. "You knew this would happen! The men don't trust you any longer." Her Mother had warned her, but she had not wanted to admit that one of her soldiers would try to kill her. The hurt was unbearable. "Then why did you allow me to join? Why didn't you send me home?"

Sota lit a candle and the pale light illuminated the tent. "Why didn't you go somewhere safe? Why couldn't you join Kikyo?" "You know I couldn't do that!" she shouted. "How could you ask me to come between Kikyo and InuYasha?" Pain flared from Kagome's wrist and she squeezed it, fighting back a grimace.

"Kagome?" Sota stepped closer to her. "You're hurt." She glanced at her wound and then withdrew. "It's nothing," she replied stubbornly. Sota looked at the dead man and shook his head, then turned back to his sister. "This is no place for you," he said quietly. "Your point has already been made," Kagome said.

Sota reached out to a nearby table and pulled a clean linen from its surface and handed it to his sister. "If I hadn't come along when I did, you would be dead." Kagome took the linen and absently wiped at the blood on her wrist. "And if I marry Count Naraku, the outcome might be the same."

Sota's blue eyes danced in the fluttering candlelight as he regarded her. Finally, he said quietly, "I would rather you join my army than marry that old hermit." Kagome raised her eyes from the scrape on her arm to stare at her brother with surprise. Then, her shock faded and she looked away from Sota. "Even after the war, I will not return to De Higurashi Castle," she announced. "And what will you do?" There was disbelief and outrage in his voice. "I am not helpless. I will sell my skills." "Mercenary?" he stated with disgust. "No one will hire you. Not a 'traitor'." "I can't go back!" "We'll never see you again," he stated quietly.

Sota was right. She would never see her family again. Unless by some chance Kohaku or Sota went to serve for the same lord that hired her. She swallowed heavily. "You must tell Kikyo that I'll miss her. And that I'm not a traitor."

Sota tried to see into her eyes, but she averted them. "You think you're going to die in the battle with the West." Kagome smiled gloomily. "If I am not cut down by an enemy, one of our own may well stab me in the back." Sota's brows knit with anger. "Then don't fight!" She stared at him, strangely pensive. "I have to. I have to fight the best I've ever fought, cut more of them down. This is my only chance to regain my honor."

Sota bowed his head. "You don't have to do this." "I only wish that I could make you believe that I did not betray out country." She said softly. His jaw tightened. But when he raised his eyes to her, Kagome saw a strange thing. His brown eyes, so unlike hers, were full of tears. She was so startled that she could not say a word.

Sota rose until he towered over her. He nodded once and turned away, striding to the entrance. It was only after he left that Kagome wondered if they were tears of remorse or tears of guilt.

* * *

Three weeks later, Kagome stood with the Eastern Army at her back. They were fifty thousand men strong, blocking the way to The Sanctuary. When the Western Army approached, the Eastern knights had donned their sparkling armor and displayed banners that quickly drooped in the constant onslaught of rain.

Kagome sat atop her white battle horse, mud staining its coat. The Westerners spread out over the plain before her, equally drenched. She estimated they had about ten thousand men at arms. Briefly, she recalled Sesshomaru sweating under the influence of the truth powder…he had said there were five thousand men at arms! Kagome frowned as an ill feeling settled like lead in the pit of her stomach. Had Tashio received reinforcements? That must be the answer. Where else would the extra men have come from? But the Eastern Armies were still more than four times their number.

"We will squash them like bugs!" The Duke of Mordens called, his fist raised as he shook it at the Enemy.

He was echoed by more threats of vengeance and torture. Kagome did not join in. She sat silently staring at their enemy. There was something about the situation that made her uneasy. Maybe it was the quiet way the Western mae stared at their army. Or maybe it was the arrogant attitude of the soldiers around her, an overconfidence that could easily lead to defeat. Doom settled around her as strong as the stench of war and she fought to rid herself of the foreign feeling.

"They won't attack today," Kagome said to Kohaku. Kohaku looked at the setting sun, hidden behind gray clouds. "I think you're right." "I believe he will lodge at The Temple." "Have the men sleep where they are. We shall await first light," Sota instructed. "Aye," Kohaku replied and rode off through the camp, passing the word.

As banners were furled around lances and knights began to remove their rain-drenched armor, Kohaku returned to Kagome's side, nudging his horse up beside hers. "You're shivering. You should get out of those wet clothes," he murmured.

Kagome barely heard him. She felt her horse slide and looked down. Thick mud sucked at the animal's feet, engulfing his hooves. She scanned the field to see that all around them the ground was wet, and as the men and horses trod through the camp they created even more mud. On either side of them, rows of trees stood tall and majestic, encroaching upon the field as if they were anxious to see the upcoming battle. "This field is not suitable to battle on. We should retreat to more solid ground," Kagome said.

Kohaku was silent for a moment as his gaze swept the field. "The ground is slick and with the weight of our armor, let alone our horses, I'm afraid that we will have trouble," she added. He looked across the field to the Western camp. "Tashio's men have traveled a long way. They are tired and far from home. They will be easy to defeat."

"The field is too narrow, the men packed in too tightly. We will have trouble using the archers. I can't see what the constable is thinking, waging battle here," Kagome mused. "I disagree with you. With all our men, how can we possibly lose?" Kagome glanced at him, her brow creased. "Do not worry, Kagome. The coming morn will bring our victory." That arrogance will be the downfall of the Eastern Armies, Kagome thought.


	24. Chapter 23

Kagome De Higurashi was already awake when morning came. She had stepped outside her brother's tent and her lips immediately arched down into a frown as she watched dawn break on the horizon. The muted red rays of the sun brought only a cold dampness with them, a wet chill that seeped into her bones.

She turned at the sound of hoof beats and watched two Eastern messengers ride through the muddy field as they returned from the Western camp. She had little hope that they would be successful in their negotiations; if Tashio's commanders were anything like Sesshomaru, they would never surrender, even if they were outnumbered a thousand to one. And from the grim looks on their faces, she knew she was right.

She looked away from the messengers to study the Eastern positions. The constable had placed the army between Cloudcourt on their left and Stormcourt on their right, thus firmly blocking the English army's route to the Sanctuary. But the field before them was restricted to about three quarters of a mile by the woods that fringed the two villages.

She frowned as she noticed that most of the Eastern nobility seemed to have pushed themselves to the front of the line in their eagerness to participate in the expected massacre of Tashio and his army. The dukes, counts, and barons had displaced many of the lowborn archers and crossbow men who were so crucial to the successful execution of the battle plan; how could they be effective if they were too far back from the line of attack? She shook her head.

"Did you hear that the constable has promised to cut off the right hand of every archer taken prisoner so that none of them will ever draw a bow against us again?"

Kagome turned to see Kohaku stepping out of the tent. She pretended she hadn't heard his query. The idea turned her stomach. "I have an ill feeling about this battle, Kohaku," Kagome said, staring into the distance toward the enemy.

"I think your feeling is due more to an empty stomach." He gently grabbed Kagome's elbow and tried to pull her with him. "Come, Sister, let us eat before we wage war."

Kagome resisted and stayed where she was. She turned her head, glancing at Kohaku from the corner of her eye. "I am not hungry." She didn't tell him that she had tried to drink a cup of ale when she awoke, but fearful that the queasiness in her stomach wouldn't let her keep it down, took only a small sip.

The men grew restless as an hour passed and the West did not attack. Banners fluttered in the wind, so many of them that the constable finally had to order half of them furled so that everyone could have a direct line of sight to the Western Army. By this time, Kagome had finished putting on her full battle armor and was in the saddle of her white warhorse.

She patted her brave steed, whispering words of encouragement to him, when a flurry of movement caused her to snap her head back to the muddy field before her.

The enemy were moving forward!

Her horse danced nervously beneath her as the air thickened with anticipation. She watched the army approach, felt the anxiety of the men behind her as they waited for the constable to give the order to engage the enemy.

Just as suddenly as they had started, the troops stopped some two hundred yards away. Kagome watched as Westernmen ran forward with large wooden stakes. They placed them in the ground, pushing them into the mud so that the sharp spikes stuck out of the earth, angled skyward. More men charged up behind the wooden spikes and Kagome could see them preparing their bows.

Archers! And a lot of them! But under the truth powder, Sesshomaru had told her that they would be few in number because there were not enough skilled men to be found. Perhaps this was a ploy. Perhaps these men were not archers, at all, but placed behind the stakes to intimidate the East.

Kagome's horse pranced skittishly, feeling its rider's anxiety. It took a stern hand to steady the animal. It was not as easy to settle the uneasy feeling inside her.

To Kagome's left, Sir Gorha exclaimed, "I will take some men and go around to the west to strike at the archers. Sir Lindach, you take twelve hundred men and go east, toward Stormcourt. We will cut down those Western archers before they can do us much harm!" The two knights rode off with their men eagerly following, shouting defiant words for all to hear.

The Western Army suddenly uttered a loud cry and started forward again. Simultaneously, Kagome saw a great cloud rise from the earth and come toward the French like a swarm of locusts. Arrows! She quickly lowered her head, knowing that the arrows could not pierce her armor, and spurred her armored horse on.

The animal rode forward to meet the enemy, but Kagome felt his hooves slip and slide in the mud. The mud was so deep he was having trouble lifting his legs. Slowly, the Eastern Army trudged closer, the thick mud retarding their movement. Arrows continued to rain down upon them.

Kagome ducked again as the arrows landed around her. She could hear the screams of her countrymen, and when she raised her eyes she was amazed at how accurate the aim of the Western archers was. Many men already lay dead around her, arrows protruding from exposed flesh.

Dread passed through her. Sesshomaru had lied. He had lied under the powder of truth! The archers were not in bad form at all. On the contrary, Kagome had never seen better aim.

She did not have time to consider the disastrous consequences because her horse stumbled, jarring her. She slid her leg over the beast and dropped to her feet. The horse fell to his knees before sluggishly regaining his balance. Kagome swatted the white steed away so the arrows would not harm him.

Around her the battle raged. The Easterners were so thickly packed that many of them could barely lift their arms, let alone control their animals. She was almost knocked over by a horse that brushed her arm as it passed. Kagome clutched her sword in two hands. To lose it now would be death. Another knight collided into her from behind. This is madness! Kagome thought. I haven't even encountered the enemy yet and we are at war – with each other!

Amid the confusion, she heard someone shout to retreat. She tried to turn, echoing the command, but could not because of the momentum of the men surging forward behind her. The mud clung to her feet, inhibiting her steps.

Suddenly, the Westerners charged and Kagome was immersed in battle. She was surrounded by whistling swords, clanging blades, and death cries. The mud sucked at her feet, pulling her down. Still, she managed to strike at the charging men, cutting down one only to be attacked by another.

Kagome disposed of her next opponent, then raised her head to quickly evaluate her position. All about her swords clanged. The field was littered with fallen men. Knights who tumbled in the thick mud floundered helplessly like turtles, the weight of their armor weighing them down. Kagome moved forward to help a soldier to his feet. She grasped his arm and pulled. Under the added weight, her foot slipped and she almost fell, but caught herself on his shoulder. After pulling him up, her eyes again scanned the field. She could not retreat because the anxious Easterners, now out of formation in their hurry to reach the enemt and gain fame and glory, were shoving forward.

Her only option was to forge ahead into the enemy. She locked gazes with the knight standing beside her, saw the fear clearly branded in his eyes. Kagome knew he was one of the nobles not accustomed to the rigors of war and he would surely die if she did not help him. "Stay close to me," she ordered him firmly, and he nodded.


	25. Chapter 24

Kagome took a deep breath, preparing to push into the fray when she noticed two foot soldiers glancing about in confusion and desperation. Somehow they had become separated from their lord. "Follow me!" Kagome commanded, and they quickly fell in behind her. With the three men at her back, she charged forward, clearing a path through the enemy with a swipe here and a thrust there, her warrior instincts leading her on. She could feel the men fighting beside her with renewed confidence, could hear their blades clashing with renewed vigor. She smiled grimly with tightly clenched teeth as the fighting around her intensified.

Then, Kagome caught a glimpse of Kohaku. He was sitting on his horse, his armor smeared with blood, when suddenly he clutched at his stomach where an arrow had magically appeared. He slumped forward, rolling off his horse into the mud.

"No!" Kagome shouted, and turned, her legs aching with the effort it took to lift her feet.

She ran as best she could toward her brother. Suddenly, an Western knight blocked her path, causing her to rear back. A savage scream of frustration ripped from her anguished throat as she arced her sword toward the enemy's head. Their swords clanged, hot blue sparks exploding from the point of impact as he expertly blocked the swing with his own blade.

Kagome's angry glare turned fully on him. Suddenly, she froze, unable to move, or breathe. It was his eyes that gave him away. His golden eyes. She recognized them through the visor he wore. "Sesshomaru," she gasped.

Kagome saw his lips move and recognition wash over his face before pain exploded from the back of her head and blackness invaded her vision.

* * *

Kagome!

Sesshomaru lowered his sword and was about to reach out a hand toward her when she suddenly crumpled to her knees, and then slumped to the ground. Sesshomaru stared with shock at the blood forming at the base of her helmet as she lay in a heap. She had fallen on top of two knights who had died before her.

Died. The hairs on Sesshomaru's neck stood straight; his flesh became cold at the thought. He heard a movement behind him. With perfect instinct, he turned to deflect a blow from an attacking Eastern knight. His adversary rained blow after blow on him, pushing him back, trying to cut him down, but Sesshomaru deflected every swing. Training guided his movements, training that had ingrained his skills so deeply that they had become habit – and the only thing keeping him alive, because all he was conscious of was Kagome.

Then, suddenly, his adversary's sword bounced off his armor, jarring his thoughts. Anger soared through every vein in his body, and power returned to his limbs. With an angry cry, Sesshomaru swung his blade, the strength of years of experience behind the blow. The blades clanged only once before Sesshomaru's sword snapped the easternman's weapon in two. Then, still shouting, Sesshomaru ran his adversary through.

He had to finish this battle. He had to go to Kagome. Sesshomaru fought like a man possessed. His golden eyes glowered through his helmet, and when he downed one man, he turned for another. His thirst for Eastern blood was unquenchable.

He whirled to take on a new foe. But there were no more enemies. All he saw was his own men – some locked in the grips of their last battle, some looking about for another adversary.

The battle was over.

Sesshomaru swung his gaze about, looking for Kagome amidst the carnage, but the field was littered with piles of bodies upon piles of bodies.

After only a few minutes of his search, Sesshomaru saw the grimy beggars, the human vultures that always seemed to appear at the end of a battle, descend onto the field to loot the corpses. As he watched a beggar slide a sharp blade across an Eastern knight's neck, the blood that splattered painted Kagome's memory in crimson. The beggar thrust his dirty hands in the knight's pouches and stole whatever he could find of value.

Sesshomaru could not stand the thought of one of these men defiling Kagome's body. He had to find her.


	26. Chapter 25

"C'mon, ya bloody cur," Rafael said to his companion. Dressed in a piece of soiled brown cloth that hung to his knees, torn at the elbows and shredded at the wrists, Rafael looked as if his whole life had been a battle. He stumbled up to the next knight, his bare feet sliding in the mud.

"I think I cut me bloody toe on one o' the blades," Johannan, his companion, said, limping and trying to peer down at his mud-covered foot. He was an older man with a head full of white hair. His entire body was caked with mud, his skin barely covered by a tunic and breeches that were so torn and ragged they hung from his thin limbs like an old cleaning cloth that had long outlived its usefulness.

"Oh, quit your complainin'. We ain't got time." Rafael bent down before the knight and lifted his helmet from his head. The knight groaned and Rafael stood quickly, backing into his companion, yelling, "'E's alive!"

"Oh, bloody hell," Johannan replied, and shoved passed Rafael. He bent on one knee in the mud and produced a dagger from his belt. He threw back the knight's chin, exposing white flesh, and drew the blade across it. "You're such a bloody woman," he commented, before cutting the knight's purse strings and handing the purse to Rafael.

Rafael took it. "Don't forget his hands!"

Johannan shifted his position and reached for the knight's gloved hand. He pulled the metal glove off and lifted up the bare hand. One ring glittered on the knight's first finger, and it was promptly removed. Johannan handled the ring to Rafael.

"Blimey! I believe it's sold gold," Rafael gasped, and stuck it in his mouth, biting down.

His companion hit him in the leg and Rafael gagged before spitting the ring out into his palm. "What ya trying' ta do, choke me? I coulda swallowed that!"

"Lookie 'ere, mate," Johannan said, and crawled over to another fallen knight.

Rafael followed and bent over the knight, hoping to find riches beyond measure. His mouth gaped at what Johannan had found.

Johannan lifted his hands to the knight's helmet and gently tugged it off.

The soft feminine face was totally out of place amid the destruction and death.

"It's her. It's the Priestess of Death!" Rafael gasped, staring raptly at her face.

Johannan shoved Rafael out of the way and climbed over her body to kneel at her head. He gathered her smooth hair in his bloody, mud-splattered hands and said, "I want this as proof. No one will bloody believe it." His sharp dagger was dull with blood.

Rafael gasped as the demon appeared, coming out of the midst of fire, heading toward them. His eyes glowed red, like the devil himself, and Rafael knew immediately who it was. "Johannan," Rafael croaked.

"Can't ya see I'm busy here?" Johannan insisted, putting the blade to her white forehead.

Suddenly, a weight so intense it threatened to crush his arm bore down upon Johannan's shoulder and he was lifted up until his feet were dangling in mid-air. The pain dulled his shoulder and his arm, and he dropped the dagger. Then, he was spun around until he was staring into eyes as Gold as the sun.

"She is mine ."

The words seemed to come from the depths of hell, for the demon's lips barely moved.

"Beggin' your pardon, sir," Rafael interrupted meekly. When the gold eyes turned to scorch him to the ground, Rafael quivered and stuttered, "Your Princelyship… Your Demon… I – I believe she's dead."

For the first time, the Prince of Demon's brilliant eyes fastened on the woman and he released Johannan, who dropped to the ground like a heavy stone. "Pray you are wrong," the giant snarled, and bent beside the Priestess of Death.

Rafael edged around the warrior woman and the giant, moving to his friend's side. The two exchanged glances and then turned back to the Prince of Demons…to find that his golden gaze was fixed on them. The demon stood slowly from his crouching position and Rafael's knees shook.

"Be gone from this place," the demon said, his eyes glowing as if the fires of hell had leapt to life in his body.

The two beggars turned and ran. Johannan slipped once in the mud and blood of the battlefield, but quickly stood and raced after Rafael.

Sesshomaru watched until the two scavengers were out of sight, then turned back to her.

"Kagome," he said, kneeling again at her side. And then more tenderly, "Priestess."

He slid his hand behind her neck and attempted to lift her head, trying to awaken her. He immediately felt moisture and pulled his hand away to see blood staining his fingers.

Anguish jarred his body and he scooped Kagome up into his arms, pushing another fallen knight from her legs. "Ah, God, Kagome," he whispered miserably, wishing for the hundredth time that she was not a knight. And especially not his enemy.

With long strides, he took her to his tent.

Sesshomaru stared at Kagome's face. Gently, he ran the rag over her cheeks, wiping at the mud. He had removed her armor and cleaned and bandaged the cut on the back of her head. Through the whole process, she had not moved, not even groaned.

Sesshomaru's stomach was twined so tight that he thought he would snap. He wasn't sure what the ache in his chest was, a heavy pressure that constricted, crushing his lungs until he could hardly breathe. Perhaps he was getting sick. He found that he could not take his eyes from Kagome's somber face. It was as if she were sleeping. Her entire face was relaxed, her soft lips parted.

Sesshomaru felt a sudden need for her. He wanted to kiss her, thrust his tongue between those lips. The memory of her kiss had lingered like the delicate fragrance of a rose these past weeks, unwanted and distracting. The thought had returned during the long, lonely nights, and he thought upon the vow he had given to Kagome in the last moments he was with her: I'll find you again. For weeks he had wondered what had possessed him to promise that. No woman could be as he remembered her. Defiant and headstrong, yet so soft and innocent.

As he stared down at her, she was more than he remembered. Softer, more fragile.

"Damn," he murmured, standing and raking a hand through his hair. Where had the hatred gone? Only weeks before he had convinced himself that he had vowed to find her so that he could bring her to The West to be humiliated for the death of Rin, so she could be punished, imprisoned in his dungeons. He had told himself that had been the plan all along. Nothing more. The hatred had sustained him through the long nights and through the pain of missing Rin.

In King Tashio's camp, word had reached them of her "betrayal". He remembered the day with heavy guilt.

* * *

 _He had been eating with Tashio, discussing the strategy for reaching The Sanctuary. The East had been cutting off the roads so that forward progress was impossible. The conversation had somehow turned to Kagome._

" _What is she like?" King Tashio had asked._ _Sesshomaru had pondered the question for a moment. He would not lie to his king. "She is…a warrior, my lord."_ _"No, no. What is the woman like? Is she ugly?"_ _"No," he had answered, more quickly than he had intended. "When she does not have her armor on, she is delicate and soft. But she likes to pretend she is not. She is also as cunning as a fox." He had looked Tashio in the eye. "If she were born English, all of England would be at her feet."_

 _"I have never heard you praise a woman so. She is pretty, then?"_ _"The little vixen has caused me more than one restless night."_ _Tashio bit into a pear tart. "And a warrior, too? It is obvious you are intrigued by the girl. What does she think of you?"_ _Sesshomaru thought upon the night he had been called to her tent, the way she had responded to his kiss, his touch. He did not answer, but attempted to change the subject. "I look forward to engaging the French Army."_

 _Tashio's eyes narrowed, and he pursued the topic with an unwavering single-mindedness. "She may not be there," he replied._ _Sesshomaru paused in mid-bite to glance at his liege._ _"Tell me, Sesshomaru, did she aid in your escape?"_ _The hairs at the nape of Sesshomaru's neck tingled. "No. Bankotsu got me out."_ _"Most of The East believes she aided you." Tashio dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. "She has brought dishonor to herself."_

 _Sesshomaru's brow darkened with each slanderous word. He dropped the meat onto the table and rose, walking to the tent flap. He stared out at the tents of Western knights without really seeing them._ _"This new disturbs you?" Tashio wondered, his voice curious._ _Sesshomaru could not answer for the anger that closed his throat._

 _If Sesshomaru had looked up, he would have seen his liege studying him with pensive eyes, obviously intrigued by his reaction. "Because if that disturbs you, I know something that may disturb you even more."_ _Sesshomaru felt his shoulder muscles tense, his neck grow stiff._ _After a long pause, Tashio said, "She has been betrothed to another man."_

 _Betrothed! Sesshomaru felt his jaw clench, his hands tighten to fists. Rage burned through him like a roaring fire, enflaming his veins. The thought of another between her creamy thighs… His knuckles cracked, he was squeezing his fists so hard. He wiped the image aside. That was not the reason he was so angry, he told himself. She had to return to The West with him to pay for Rin's death._

 _"Sesshomaru?" Tashio called._

 _He turned and saw the glimmer of curiosity in Tashio's eyes. He could not get the picture of her vicious people ridiculing her out of his mind. His jaw ached from clenching his teeth, and his mind burned with feverish fury at the torment and anguish Kagome must have endured. "They are lies. She did not help me. She has been wrongly accused."_ _"She did not publicly deny it."_ _Sesshomaru frowned in confusion_.

* * *

Even now, as Sesshomaru stared down at her peaceful face, the confusion returned. Why had she allowed the rumor to spread? And what of her marriage? Did she love the man? Sesshomaru fumed. She would not marry anyone. He had laid claim to Kagome, and no other man would touch her. "Prince. The king has ordered all prisoners executed."

Sesshomaru spun to find Bankotsu standing in the entrance to his tent. His right arm was in a sling, but his left hand held a sword. The fall from Kagome's ledge to the murky waters below had cost him the use of his arm. Sesshomaru had reset it the best he could.

Bankotsu turned and Sesshomaru felt his anxiety abate. He had not seen Kagome. For a moment, the thought of protecting Kagome from death overrode his sense of loyalty to his friend. Sesshomaru would have stopped him from hurting her – in any way he could.

Then Bankotsu's words struck him. King Tashio had ordered the death of all prisoners! But why? The ransom alone would bring enough gold to finance the war for another year!

Slowly, Sesshomaru rose and turned to find Bankotsu standing not two feet from him! Bankotsu's eyes were accusing, and his knuckles were white with restrained anger. "You told me you killed her," he bit out. "I told you I took care of it," Sesshomaru replied, a strange calm settling over his entire body. "Obviously you were wrong." Bankotsu took only one step toward Kagome, but Sesshomaru moved into his path, his broad shoulders squared.

"She is mine." "She is Tashio's!" "She is mine," Sesshomaru repeated, staring his friend in the eye. Bankotsu stepped back. "Tashio has ordered all prisoners slain." The thought struck Sesshomaru like a blow to the chest. He frowned and glanced at Kagome for a moment. "I will speak with him." "Sesshomaru," Bankotsu said, grabbing his arm. "She is poison to you. If you keep her, she will bring nothing but trouble." Sesshomaru's thoughtful gaze turned to Bankotsu. He studied his friend for a moment, the fierce anger in his clenched teeth, the confusion in his scowling brows. "Do not harm her," he finally said, before leaving his tent to seek out King Tashio.

His long strides took him through the camp quickly. He ignored the cries of pain that crescendoed around him, his ears deaf to the screams as death claimed the prisoners. He reached Tashio's tent and entered only to find it empty Sesshomaru frowned, perplexed. He turned and quit the tent only to see King Tashio and a group of knights approaching.

"Sesshomaru," Tashio called as he came nearer. "Those bastard Easterners raided our supplies." Sesshomaru ignored his words. "My lord, did you order the prisoners executed?" "Yes. They are attacking from the rear! There are too many prisoners for us to watch. If they rally, all of our gains will be lost," Tashio proclaimed, and moved past Sesshomaru into the tent.

Sesshomaru cast a quick look in the direction of his own tent before following Tashio inside. He watched as Tashio put out his arms and two squires appeared at his side and began to scrub his armor free of dried blood. Raucous voices resounded around Tashio, who appeared to hear all of them, throwing an occasional nod to one knight and a violent shake of his head to another.

Finally, the armor was clear and the squires hurriedly returned his shining sword to its sheath. Tashio moved toward the tent flap once again. "M'lord," Sesshomaru called, his voice booming over the commotion. All sound ceased and Tashio turned to Sesshomaru.

Sesshomaru paused, trying to judge Tashio's mood. If he was jubilant over the victory, he would be generous. If Tashio was angry over the Eastern raids, he would order Kagome's death. Indecision flitted through Sesshomaru's mind, an uncomfortable feeling he did not enjoy.

"You have something to say?" Tashio wondered. Sesshomaru was aware that every gaze was upon him. He straightened his shoulders. "I would speak with you in private, sire." The ghost of a frown crossed Tashio's face before he motioned everyone out of his tent. As the tent flap swooshed shut, Tashio turned to face Sesshomaru. "This had better be important. I am in the middle of a war."

"Sire, I have found the Priestess of Death," Sesshomaru said. Tashio's brows drew together, his look thoughtful. "Is she alive?" "Barely," he answered, the word constricting his throat. Tashio moved past Sesshomaru, saying, "I would see her." Sesshomaru followed him into the camp. As they exited, the others gazed with curiosity as the king paused to ask, "Where is she?"

"This way, sire," Sesshomaru murmured, and moved to lead the way. With each step, hope began to pound through his body. The king deemed Kagome important enough for a glance; perhaps he would see the wisdom of sparing her life. When they entered his tent, Sesshomaru had to glare at the other men to keep them from following. Bankotsu's face was grim, his mouth a hard line as he bowed to King Tashio and stepped from Kagome's side to let the king look down upon her peaceful form.

Sesshomaru watched Tashio carefully. Tashio's brow furrowed as his blue eyes scanned every curve. "She is not what I expected," Tashio finally stated. "You were right, Sesshomaru. She does not look like The Easterners. She does not look like my enemy." "But she is," Bankotsu snarled. "She alone has killed thousands of our men."

"Bankotsu," Sesshomaru warned. Tashio turned slowly from Kagome's soft features to face Sesshomaru. "Bankotsu, leave us." With a slight, stiff nod, Bankotsu departed. "He is right, you know," Tashio told Sesshomaru. "You said it yourself. She is as cunning as a fox." "She has also been spurned by her people." "True." Tashio cast a long look over his shoulder at Kagome before looking back at Sesshomaru. "But who do you think she will blame for it?" Sesshomaru frowned. He had not considered the consequences of his actions. He would deal with them as they arose.

Tashio ran his hands over his face in fatigue and sat in a nearby chair. "How do you think it would look were I to spare her life?" Sesshomaru sat heavily across from Tashio, watching silently for a sign of judgment. "You have served me well, Sesshomaru," Tashio told him, his back straightening with the weight of his decision. "Many battles have hinged on your strategic maneuvers, your skill on the battlefield. Perhaps a castle would be a better reward."

"I have a castle, my liege," Sesshomaru replied evenly. "A man can never have too many." "I am a fighting man. I am rarely at Moonlight Castle now." "Perhaps there is something else you need."

Sesshomaru glanced at Kagome. Her soft lips parted, her skin pale in her deathlike slumber, her long lashes resting like a feather against her cheek. He watched the rise and fall of her breasts for a moment. It was ironic how so many fought for her death, and he, her most hated enemy, was the only one who fought for her life. He pushed the image of this glorious woman from his mind and conjured images of Rin.

When he looked back at Tashio, his eyes were hard. "I ask that you spare her life, my lord." Tashio stood. "Damn it, man! I cannot do that. While she does not look like my enemy, she is. Nothing can change that," Tashio said, and headed for the tent flap. "My decision is made." Sesshomaru rose in panic. "My liege, she killed my daughter!"

Tashio froze in mid-step as if Sesshomaru's words had penetrated his skin like a chill breeze. Slowly, he turned. When he faced Sesshomaru, his eyes were carefully blank. "I ask that you spare her life so that I can inflict on her the pain she has put me through." "I should not allow this, Sesshomaru. Harm could befall you, your castle, or even me because of her treachery." Tashio sighed heavily as if the conclusion was apparent. "But since you have been so faithful, I will allow it."

Sesshomaru rose from his chair as his heart soared. "You shall not be sorry, sire." Tashio scowled. "The gleam in your eye does not befit a man who speaks of torture and pain." Sesshomaru looked away. Tashio stepped closer to Sesshomaru, having to raise his face to speak to him. "Do not take my boon as kindness. If, through any action of hers, my subjects come to harm, I will hold you personally responsible. You, not she, will answer to my punishment." Sesshomaru bowed, acceptingly. "Yes, my lord." Tashio nodded and moved to the flap. Before he exited, he paused to glance back at Sesshomaru. "You are a stubborn man, Sesshomaru," he said. "Beware. You have death in your camp."

* * *

Wow it has been a while since I updated. House repairs take so long So I put up a few chapters for you all to enjoy. I won't be updating for a week or so. Got to finish the house repairs first. And that means the computer will be packed up safe and sound and internet will be down until we are finished. Leave a review in the box. They feed my inner muse and keep her writing.


	27. Chapter 26

The castle rose out of the flatland like an erupting mountain of stone, its man-made square towers and rectangular walls sharply contrasting with the natural roll of the earth. Sesshomaru led his weary party over the drawbridge, trudging across the wooden planks that groaned beneath the passing weight of the returning warriors, and through the open gate. The outer ward was quiet, the peasants long since retired for the evening. The moon Shone through the clouds illumination the ancient castle

King Tashio had given Sesshomaru and his men a much-deserved rest from the endless war with the French. Sesshomaru had surprised himself by accepting Tashio's offer without much hesitation. As he neared the castle, Sesshomaru was not surprised that he had not been greeted by banners and villagers waving to him in the streets. They had not known he was coming. He was grateful. He could not be the dark lord they expected him to be and stand stoically before them. Not now. Every bone in his body ached from the three day march to Moonlight Castle. He had not allowed his knights to rest, stopping only when the horses needed water or tending. Sesshomaru's gaze shifted to the wagon he rode beside as he rolled his shoulders in an effort to relieve the tension in them. Kagome lay bundled in blankets and furs, barely visible except for her tranquil face.

He had driven his army on relentlessly because he wanted to get her to Moonlight Castle. The weather had remained fair and he was worried that if it changed to rain, she would become ill. She had not awakened from her long slumber during the entire trip back to The West.

There was a commotion behind him and Sesshomaru straightened, his hand flying to his sword's handle as he turned. One of his soldiers was stumbling to his feet from the ground, being helped up by two other men. A third knight had captured the reins of his rearing horse before it could bolt away. The exhausted knight was rubbing his eyes and yawning. He must have fallen asleep on his mount and tumbled to the ground, Sesshomaru thought. He sighed, attempting to relax, but his shoulders remained stiff, his neck tight. There were rumors that some lords were angry with King Tashio for sparing the Priestess of Death and had vowed vengeance. Sesshomaru was tense, jumping into battle-readiness at every noise, every movement.

He was grateful they had finally reached Moonlight Castle, and without incident, even if it was the middle of the night. He knew Kagome would be safe.

As they crossed the outer ward gatehouse, he found the yard empty of people. Only the stone wall of the inner ward was there to greet them. Sesshomaru led his tired group toward the towering gate of the inner ward. He knew the guards of the outer gatehouse were spreading the word of his return. Sesshomaru expected that there would be no one in the inner ward to greet them, either. But as the gates creaked open, he saw a small group of raggedy people lounging in the middle of the square.

At last, Sesshomaru felt the tension fall from his shoulders like a loosened cape. As Sesshomaru brought his horse to a halt and swung his leg over the side, the group of five men and two women approached him. A comfortable grin spread over his tired features. Behind him, he heard the sound of sighs, shifting of clothing, and clang of armor as his men dismounted from their horses. "It must be too cold to go roaming through the fields," Sesshomaru said.

The group formed a semicircle around Sesshomaru. "We needed some ale," one of the men replied. He wore brown breeches and brown boots, and a pelt of fur hung loosely around his oversized tunic. He ran a hand over his hair as he regarded Sesshomaru. "I think you're becoming soft," Sesshomaru answered warmly. A younger man with brown hair and a scrawny beard held out his hand. "It's good to see you, too, brother," he greeted.

Sesshomaru clasped his arm tightly, nodding. His eyes drifted back to the first man. He looked older than Sesshomaru remembered. Last time he saw Koga, the hair on top of his head was dark. He looked into his eyes and saw the signs of age in them. Koga nodded as if in answer. "Yes, it has been a long time." "We've been here three times since you left for court," the younger man said.

Sesshomaru's gaze returned to him. Ginta was ten years younger than Sesshomaru, born here at Moonlight Castle. Sesshomaru looked him over with a quick glance. Ginta had filled out. Where before he had been scrawny and boyish, Ginta was now muscular and…a man. Ginta wore a tunic of fur and breeches which Sesshomaru recognized instantly. His eyebrows shot up. "Raiding my chests while I am away?" Ginta shrugged. "I figured if you didn't take it with you, you didn't need it."

Sesshomaru nodded. "You are welcome to anything in Moonlight Castle." His eyes swept the rest of the group. Hakkaku stood beside Koga. He was Sesshomaru's age, but looked younger with his, unruly hair. The chain mail he wore over his tunic was rusting. He wore a fur cape for warmth. Hakkaku nodded at Sesshomaru, a crooked grin tugging one of the corners of his lips. Sesshomaru returned the greeting.

Hunteu wore leather armor beneath a tunic of gray. His face was scarred across the cheek and on the chin; his black hair hung to his knees, tied back with a piece of fur. His dark eyes narrowed at seeing Sesshomaru's appraisal.

Breadon stood near the back of the group. He had a fresh cut across his cheek and a black eye. His hot temper had landed him in trouble again, Sesshomaru knew. He wore a pair of breeches and tunic that Sesshomaru knew were his. His eyes glinted with defiance and Sesshomaru was amused by the challenge he saw in his stance. He chuckled and was rewarded by Breed's scowl.

Sesshomaru's gaze shifted to the two women. He knew only one. Pharona was thin and shapely, but far from feminine. Her blond hair hung in dirty clumps filled with thick knots. She wore breeches and a fur tunic. In her brown eyes, Sesshomaru saw fondness as she gazed at him. He shook his head slightly in return.

Beside her stood a new addition to the Wolf Demons. She had the look of a hunted animal, her eyes constantly shifting from side to side, her curved body bent as if in preparation to flee. Her red hair was hidden in the folds of a woolen hood draped over her head. Koga stated, "Her name's Ayame. She is the last of her" Sesshomaru nodded once.

"Where's Rin?" Pharona wondered, glancing beyond Sesshomaru at the supply wagons that were now entering the inner ward.

Sesshomaru straightened his shoulders. He tried to push every painful emotion from his body, but could not manage to rid himself of even one. The girl's image rose before his eyes, her brown hair, that stray lock that fell into her eyes. In his mind, he heard Rin's joyful cry upon returning home, saw her dash into Moonlight Castle, calling for her mother. But the vision was agonizing, the dying voice echoing in his head only. A memory. Sesshomaru tightened his jaw against the heartache that once again filled his chest and burned his eyes. "She died in a fire," Sesshomaru replied, his voice cold, detached. Pharona's brows furrowed deeply in sorrow.

Sesshomaru turned to the wagon where Kagome was lying. He vaulted over the side and stood over her. As he gazed down at her still, pale face, his love for Rin consumed his heart. She had to be punished. It was in her camp that his girl died. It was on Eastern soil. Even as he thought these things, the desire to touch her soft cheek, her silken hair, to kiss her full lips and breathe life into her again, to see her large, piercing eyes open, filled him so completely that he had to clench his fists tightly at his side to keep from acting on the impulse.

Finally, he bent and scooped her up into his arms. He pulled her close to his chest, shielding her from the chill of the night as he stepped off the wagon. "Who is she?" Hakkaku asked, moving toward him.

Sesshomaru tightened his arms around her as if his strength would give her the power to recover. He looked down at the fur-lined brown cloak that concealed her face. A stray strand of hair had torn free from the wrappings and gently blew in the soft breeze that suddenly surrounded them. "She is my prisoner," Sesshomaru replied possessively, and marched toward the castle. Hakkaku cast a baffled, curious look at Koga before following Sesshomaru into Moonlight Castle.

* * *

Sesshomaru sat in the chair beside Kagome, his face in his hands. He had been by her side for most of the night, refusing visitors. "You can't stay in here forever," Bankotsu said from behind him. "No," Sesshomaru replied wearily, rubbing his stubbled chin, "only until she awakens." His gaze came to rest on Kagome. In the morning sun that shone through the window, Sesshomaru could see how pale she was. He longingly remembered the red that had colored her cheeks when he had last seen her.

"What if she doesn't awaken?" Bankotsu asked. "Will you follow her into hell?" Sesshomaru's shoulders stiffened and set with anger. Only his friend would dare speak thus to him. She would not die. She could not. Not like this. He longed to hold her hand, to touch her skin, but he was afraid if he did that she would be so cold…that the last strands of hope would leave his body.

Bankotsu shook his head sadly. "Why do you sit at her side, my friend? You should awaken Kagura, tour your castle, or at the very least, get some sleep." "I can't," Sesshomaru responded stoically. "You sit here like some lovesick pup! Think of what your people will say. Think how it looks! God's blood, Prince, she was responsible for the slaughter of hundreds of knights under your command! How can you allow her to live?"

"She was responsible for my daughter's death," Sesshomaru answered quietly. "She must live. If only to pay for that."

Bankotsu released his breath slowly. "If that is the reason, then why did you not throw her in the dungeon? Why did you bring her to your own room?" When Sesshomaru did not answer, Bankotsu continued quietly, "Sesshomaru, I vowed loyalty to you many many years ago. But I also took a vow to The West and to King Tashio. I hope you will not force me to choose one over the other."

Sesshomaru heard Bankotsu's footsteps recede as he walked across the floor and departed. Why had he brought her to his room? To make sure she recovered, he answered silently. She could die from drafts and rat bites in the dungeon. At least here, in his room, he could see that she was able to rest and be well cared for. He looked at her again. She could not die. The thought rose in his mind over and over. I will not let her.

"She is very pretty for a prisoner," the voice murmured at his side. Sesshomaru started. He should have heard Hakkaku coming, had always been able to. But now, his mind was occupied by the Priestess. "Is she a duke's wife?" Hakkaku wondered. "She is Kagome De Higurashi," Sesshomaru answered. "An Eastern Woman?" He chuckled. "And this is all your mighty army brought back from Them?" "She is the Priestess of Death." Hakkaku was silent for a long moment. "A woman? Intriguing."

Sesshomaru squeezed his tired eyes closed and dropped his head. Yes, a woman. During his days of captivity he had pondered the outrageousness of it for many a moment. He rose out of the chair, stretching his arms above his head. "You look like death itself." A smile touched Hakkaku's features. "Perhaps some food and a drink with old friends will resurrect you."

Sesshomaru longed to leave his worries behind. He almost accepted. Then, he looked back over his shoulder at the woman lying in his bed. True, she was safer at Moonlight Castle than on the road, but even here there were people who would wish her ill. He could not leave her.

Sesshomaru turned to Hakkaku to tell him, but before he opened his mouth, He smiled a knowing grin as if seeing his innermost thoughts. "Pharona will guard her while you eat with us."

The Wolf Demons had the uncanniest ability to see into his soul. He'd forgotten how the gift could startle him. Finally, Sesshomaru nodded. He needed to say no more.

When they reached the door, Pharona was there as if by intuition. She exchanged a nod with them before slipping into Sesshomaru's bedchamber. Hakkaku shut the door behind them and together they walked the long hallway. Two sets of empty plate armor lined the corridor, silently guarding the passage. They were in bad need of a cleaning. They turned right and took the first set of steps into the Great Hall.

The Wolf Demons were already seated around a long wooden table that stretched out just below the three stained glass windows, each painted with a snarling red wolf. The hearth fire was blazing, and Sesshomaru felt the warmth cover his body, warming his cold soul. He was home. It had indeed been a long time. Too long. He noticed that the rushes were in dire need of changing. The room stank of soot and rotted meat, not of violets and ale, as had the De Higurashi Great Hall.

Three of his hounds rushed to greet him. He paused momentarily to pat their heads and scratch behind their ears before he followed Hakkaku to the table. Hakkaku hurled his fur cape over the table onto the back of a wooden chair, then leapt over the table to take the seat. Sesshomaru noted a vacant chair between Koga and Hakkaku intended, he supposed, for him.

Bread and ale were before him, and Sesshomaru noted how not one servant had met his eyes, how they'd trembled in his presence. He had grown accustomed to Kagome and her defiant looks and barbed tongue. Their sniveling repulsed him. Finally, an older maid he remembered as Keade lifted her eyes to meet his before quickly dropping them. She curtseyed and muttered, "It's good ta have m'lord home," then raced off.

Sesshomaru was surprised at her boldness. Usually, the servants didn't dare raise eyes or words to him. Only his steward brought him word of important happenings throughout the castle, and then only when necessary. The villains of his lands feared him as the servants did. As a result, most squabbles were settled before he had to preside over them. Only occasionally did he have to make a judgment.

Sesshomaru watched the maid scurry from the room as fast as her plump little form would allow. An amused smile slid over his lips…he would have Keade care for Kagome.

"It seems you were truly missed," Koga said, hunched over his bread, his eyes on the door through which Keade had disappeared. "Perhaps no one thought they would see you again," Hunteu murmured, tipping back in his chair. "We had heard that you were captured," Koga went on. "By some Priestess of Death."

Sesshomaru cast Hakkaku a quick look in time to see a sly smile spread over his face. Sesshomaru reached for the bread and tore off a large piece with his hands, filling his mouth with food. "Not once," Hunteu snorted, "but three times." He ripped off a piece of bread with his teeth. "I thought I had taught you better than that, Sesshomaru," Koga grimaced. "It was only twice," Sesshomaru argued softly. Hakkaku and Breadon laughed.

"Prince!" The voice exploded through the room, echoing from wall to wall.

Sesshomaru didn't have to raise his eyes to know the voice. He was dreading the confrontation with Kagura. He heard her footsteps race across the hall and stood to greet her. As she rounded the table, approaching him, Sesshomaru saw she had put on weight. Her breasts were large and bounced with each step. Her face had grown rounder, but her hair was just as dark and long as he remembered.

Kagura reached for him with open arms, but Sesshomaru grabbed her wrists to stop her embrace. Confusion washed over her features. She smelled of sweat, ashes, and burnt bread, not the sweet fragrance of wild wind. Her hair looked unkempt, as if she had not bothered to comb it in days, so unlike Kagome's soft, silky tresses.

Sesshomaru found himself instantly repelled. He lowered her arms. Had she changed so much, or was it he who had changed? Sesshomaru turned away from her, his throat tightening. "Rin is dead," he announced. Kagura gasped. "No." She clutched her neck and stepped back.

"She was killed in a fire in the Eastern camp," Sesshomaru explained. He half turned to her, expecting a wail or tears. All she did was lower her head, chewing on her lip. There were no tears, no regret, in her features. Sesshomaru straightened. "She is gone, Kagura," Sesshomaru repeated.

Kagura glanced up at Sesshomaru. She tentatively reached out to put her hands on his shoulders. "That doesn't mean that I can't still be yours."

For a moment, he didn't move, didn't breathe. All Rin was to her was a claim to him, a place in Moonlight Castle. The fury was sudden and hot. It clenched his fists, hardened his will. He pushed her hands off his shoulders, his face twisting into a mask of disgust. "Get away from me," he snarled. "The only reason you were my intended was to take care of Rin!"

Tears welled in Kagura's red eyes. He could see her sharp mind working, plotting her return to his side. She raised her hands to cover her mouth, weeping. "My child! My daughter!" She leaned into his chest, resting her forehead against it. Sesshomaru jerked away. "Your grief comes just a second too late, Kagura." As he turned to retake his seat, Kagura reached out a hand. "We can have child together," she said desperately.

Sesshomaru tried to control the anger that raced through his veins. It was useless. When he turned to her, his posture was stiff, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. "Thay child would not be Rin." Kagura backed slowly away from the explodable rage that brewed inside of him.

Finally, when she had taken a seat very far away from him, Sesshomaru was able to turn and sit. His anger fueled his every movement as he ripped apart a chunk of bread and tossed it into his mouth. He stared at his hands and was surprised to find them shaking. He dropped the bread onto the table and clenched his fists in an effort to stop the trembling.

Curse her, he thought. She never loved the girl. He remembered the burning embarrassment because his father was weak and sickly. He resented his father, then. But, through it all, his father had loved him. Sesshomaru could not imagine what it was like to be unloved by your own mother.

The image of Rin lying lifeless in his arms blazed into his mind's eye. He could not have wanted a more loyal daughter. And now she was gone. He would never hear her laugh again. He would never have to brush that damn fool lock of hair away from her eyes. He would never get the chance to see her fulfill her dream of becoming a knight. Sesshomaru's eyes darted angrily toward his room, where his prisoner lay. Kagome must be punished for Rin's death.

It was then that he felt others watching him. He looked around the room to find Hakkaku leaning back in his chair, one leg resting over the arm, casually munching on a piece of bread and regarding Sesshomaru through lazy eyes. As he slanted a cursory glance at his friends, he found they were all surveying him with mild, silent interest.

His gaze finally returned to Hakkaku. He tossed the bread back onto the tray. Hakkaku grinned sadly and took a long drink of ale. Finally, it was Koga who broke the silence. "The prisoner," he said, "what will you do with her?" "I haven't decided yet," Sesshomaru replied. He noticed how Koga looked at Hakkaku, who arched an eyebrow and shrugged his shoulders. "She would bring a good bag of gold if you decided to ransom her," Hunteu announced around a mouthful of bread.

Breadon chuckled. "She was quite a piece. Perhaps you could give her to us." He gestured around the table at the other members of the Wolf Demons. Hunteu snickered lustfully. Sesshomaru straightened, his eyes narrowing on Breed. "No one will touch her while she is in my castle." His voice was dangerous, his posture stiff, threatening. At his menacing voice, all eyes again turned to him. "Who is this woman that she merits such protection?" Hunteu wondered, drawing the rage in Sesshomaru's gaze.

"She is the Priestess of Death," Sesshomaru answered. Stunned silence fell over the room, blanketing it with curiosity and shocked surprise. As Sesshomaru continued to eat, his mind occupied by thoughts of his captive, he did not notice Kagura when she slithered from her chair and headed for the stairs.

* * *

Hey all finally got the carpet done. Such a pain in the rear end. Anyway it took longer because I was celebrating my birthday and didn't even try to write this up on the 28th or the day after nursing a hangover.

Anyway please leave a comment in the box. I haven't been getting many reviews so I have decided that until my number of reviews is double the number of chapters I have up on this I won't be updating. I do not want to waste my time if people do not like this story enough to review


	28. Chapter 27

The scream sliced through Kagome's pain-clouded mind like a blade. She struggled to open her eyes. And when she did, she saw a woman with long, dark hair coming at her with a dagger, her hair disheveled, her red eyes wild with hate. Kagome fought to raise her hands to protect herself, but they were too heavy. The pain receded, and relief stitched closed her mind, sealing off the rest of the world.

The dagger arced down toward Kagome's heart just as the small whirlwind slammed into Kagura's side, knocking her to the floor. Pharona howled and grabbed the hand that held the dagger above their heads as they rolled across the floor. Kagura's scream replaced Pharona's roar as Pharona pinned Kagura beneath her by straddling her body. Kagura fought for a moment before she was slapped hard across her face. With the jolt, the dagger fell from her fist and clattered across the floor to land at Sesshomaru's feet.

He stood in the doorway, staring at the dagger. Then his eyes shifted to Kagura.

Pharona rose, hauling Kagura to her feet. Kagura yanked her arm free, screeching, "She killed her! She killed Rin!"

Sesshomaru bent and picked up the dagger. At first, his mind refused to accept the fact that one of his own people had almost stabbed Kagome through the heart. Here he was worried about another lord, and Kagura was the one who had tried to end Kagome's life.

He turned the dagger over slowly in his hand, watching the candlelight reflect off its shining surface. It wasn't because Kagome had killed Rin. The woman had no feelings for her daughter – that alone was enough to make Sesshomaru hate her. He stopped flipping the dagger. It was because Kagome had smashed every security Rin represented for Kagura.

Slowly his eyes rose, the hate shining from them like beacons. "It was in her camp!" Kagura hissed. "She is responsible!" "Thank you, Pharona," Sesshomaru murmured. Pharona nodded and brushed by him as she exited the room. Sesshomaru moved forward and Kagura retreated. "And you would kill her as she lay sleeping… defenseless ?"  
Kagura's eyes glinted. "For our Daughter –" Sesshomaru's voice was low and dangerous. "She meant nothing to you!" "Of course she did. She was my daughter, too." "She was nothing to you except an heir to my estates." "That's not true!" "And now you feel that Kagome poses some sort of danger to your security here at Moonlight Castle." Her voice changed to the controlled, even tone that signified her anger. "Kagome, is it? Not prisoner, not enemy?"

Sesshomaru turned to her. Kagura's red eyes were focused on the bed where Kagome slept. "Raise a hand to her again and you shall be banned from Moonlight Castle." Sesshomaru suddenly realized with an absolute certainty that he'd never loved Kagura. She was cruel and manipulative. Even in bed, her touch was calculated not for pleasure, but to control him. He used her for a need and the fact that she had had his child meant nothing to him. He turned his back on her.

"You would choose the killer of our child over me?" His knuckles closed tightly around the hilt of the dagger. "If you cannot kill her, I will," she stated emphatically. He was before her in two steps. His large hand wrapped around her neck as he hauled her up to the tips of her toes. "Hear you nothing that I say, woman?" "I will take vengeance for our daughter." "She did not kill Rin," Sesshomaru snarled. "The fire was in her camp! She lit it to kill your daughter!"

"She did not know she was my child." At Kagura's confusion, he continued, but more to himself, his voice full of agony. "Kagome did not kill Rin! She would not have torched half of her camp to kill a small, insignificant girl." It had been an accident. An accident. He released Kagura suddenly, almost dropping her. Sesshomaru bowed his head, staring at the floor. "It was because of me Rin was in The East at all. And it was me she came after."

He smashed his fist into the wall beside Kagura's head. She cringed, broke away and ran past him. He heard different footsteps approach from behind him. "She did not kill Rin," Sesshomaru murmured, his voice thick with sick realization. "I know," Hakkaku answered quietly. "You need time away, brother. Go. She will be watched." Sesshomaru lifted heavy eyes to Hakkaku. "And protected, if need be." Sesshomaru nodded. He cast one last miserable look at Kagome, wishing desperately that she was awake, before departing the room.

Pain cut deep into Kagome's mind, bringing with it hazy glimpses of people…a dark haired woman, her eyes angry…a small thin girl with a scar across her cheek bending close…Sesshomaru, his dark eyes underlined with rings of sleeplessness, his brow creased with lines of worry…

Voices floated to her, quiet, hushed. At first Kagome could not understand what they were saying, but after a moment, the mumbling became words as she recognized that they were spoken in Western. "She's going to die. Ain't no hope for it," a woman's voice murmured. "Do na say that," a second girl's voice responded. "The lord would be most dis—dis—dis—" "Distraught." "Ya! Distraught. He's tried so hard ta keep 'er alive." "She hasn't been awake for days. And she's so thin." Kagome's eyes fluttered as she struggled to open them, groaning with the effort. "She's tossin' again," the girl stated.

Kagome opened her eyes. A young girl was staring at her, a scar etched into her cheek. Her peaceful brown eyes went round in fright. "Gaw!" the girl cried. "She's awake! She saw me! Me limbs are turnin' ta stone!" The girl merged into the shadow as she leapt away from the bed, out of the small circle of light cast by a single candle.

"Don't be ridiculous," the woman said, as she moved into Kagome's view. Brown eyes gazed at her with indifference. "She's just raving. I'm tellin' ya, the fever will take her soon and she'll be out of our lives." Kagome tried to speak, but her lips were brittle and cracked, and her words caught in her parched throat. Finally, she managed to gag, " Water ."

The girl with the brown eyes peeked over the woman's shoulder like a frightened child to whisper, "Wha' that she saying?" The woman shrugged her beefy shoulders, nonchalantly pushing a strand of dark hair from her eyes. "Eastern. She's ramblin'. We might as well bury her now."

Western, Kagome reminded herself: What was the word for water? Her mind ached as she forced herself to think. "We ain't killin' nobody, Kitten. She's already dead, I keep tellin' ya," the woman said. "But she's seen our faces. What if she comes back for us?" "Water," Kagome gasped in Western.

"Gaw!" Kitten cried again, stepping back. The woman turned hard, assessing eyes to Kagome. "Ya best get Bankotsu," she said to Kit, keeping her gaze on Kagome. "Ya mean she might live? Keade! Ya bloody told me I could have her helmet! I already told –" "Quiet," Keade snapped. "Go get Bankotsu before I leave ya alone with her."

Kitten fled from the room.

Keade bent close to Kagome. She placed a cool hand against Kagome's forehead before turning to retrieve a goblet from the side table. Kagome's head swam as Keade gently placed a hand beneath her head and lifted. The goblet was cold against her lips and, as the water cascaded over her parched throat, Kagome heard Keade murmur, "Ya are a fighter, I must say that. I truly believed ya would not live." Keade pulled the goblet from Kagome's lips after she took a few sips. "Not too much, or ya'll be sick."

Kagome ached for more of the soothing liquid, but she saw Keade place it back on the wooden table and did not have the strength to object. She laboriously turned her head to see where she was. Most of the room was in darkness. Soft pillows cushioned her head; warm blankets covered her body. A light, gauzy black curtain separated the rest of the room from the bed, except on Keade's side. There, it was drawn back. On a table beside the bed was a single candle, the only light in the tomb of darkness.

"Where am I?" Kagome asked. "You are a prisoner." The answer came from the darkness. Kagome tensed. Tingles of dread shot up the back of her neck. I know that voice, Kagome thought. Keade rose and turned. "Sir," she said, "I believe she will live." Silence. "My lord will be pleased," she continued. Kagome watched as one of Keade's hands wrung the other, again and again. "Yes," the voice finally said tightly. Her heart stopped as she recalled the last thing she had seen before the darkness took her; dark eyes staring at her through a silver visor.

Sesshomaru!

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Author's Note: I should so End it here but that would be so cruel . . .

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Kagome's stomach tensed and she pushed herself up until she was in a sitting position. Pain flared through her head, and she put a hand to the origin, the base of her skull. She found a mended wound. Slowly, she lifted her head and saw the woman backing away from her, the fear in her wide eyes. She heard metal hiss and recognized the familiar sound – a weapon being drawn. The sword came toward her out of the darkness, pointing straight at her face. "Don't think to try anything, Priestess."

The room swam before her eyes and she willfully shook away the darkness that threatened to overcome her. He stepped forward and Kagome's eyes widened with recognition. She knew him immediately. His hateful gaze locked on her now as it had in her chamber. His right arm was in a sling, but other than that, he looked unscathed! How could that be? They had fallen fifty feet! They should both be dead!

"Sesshomaru," she gasped, the anguish of months of thinking him dead rising into her throat. "Where is he?" Her heart beat hopefully, fluttering at the mere thought of him. "You stupid bitch!" Bankotsu snarled. "He left you and still you cry out his name! He told me how you spread your legs for him, you ugly whore. You are nothing to him!" Her own doubts from the mouth of another hurt her worse than if he had run her heart through. She sat stunned, unable to look away from his vengeful gaze. "Don't you think if he cared for you he would be here?" he mocked. The darkness crept forward from the edge of the room. "Instead, he is in the arms of another," he whispered through clenched teeth.

The thought of Sesshomaru's loving face hovering above the dark-haired woman who had haunted her dreams, fluttering kisses over her naked body – kisses she had imagined Sesshomaru giving to her – sent Kagome reeling back into the blackness that opened its arms to welcome her.

The voice came to her through a haze. "Come on, now. Ya cannot sleep yer life away. I got orders ta get ya up. Ya should be eatin'." Light assaulted Kagome's closed eyes and she groaned, tentatively opening one eye to squint into the morning sun. Keade came into her view, her body blocking the light, her hands on her ample hips. "Now, ya can't be abed forever. 'Taint good for…" Her voice trailed off. Kagome raised her eyes to meet Keade's and saw sympathy in the woman's gaze before Keade turned away.

Kagome raised a hand to block out the light, but her palm brushed against wetness. Startled, she ran her fingers over her cheek to find her face was wet. Dumbfounded, she gazed at her moist fingers. After a moment, she brought them to her lips. The salty taste of tears tingled the tip of her tongue. Surprised washed over her, followed immediately by humiliation. She wiped at her cheeks with her hands and then with the sleeve of her nightdress.

Nightdress? She glanced at the silky garment. It was more beautiful than any she had ever seen. It laced up the front and was made of the softest, smoothest white cloth she had ever felt. Who had dressed her? Who had attended her while she was unconscious?

"This will help." Kagome looked up to find a towel dangling from Keade's hands. Angry with herself for her weakness, Kagome turned away, burying her face deep in the pillow. She felt the bed bend beneath the maid's weight as she sat beside her. "Ya needn't fret over a few shed tears," Keade said. "Many a maid would have lost their senses by now." But I am not a maiden, Kagome thought, her fists clenching the pillow until her fingers ached. "Why, jus' the other day I was sayin' ta Melinda what a –" Kagome whirled on Keade, half sitting up. "Stop your prattling and get out!" Keade rose, her large brown eyes wide with surprise. Quickly, her look darkened. "Well, now. Ifn that's how ya feel…" She turned on her heel.

Kagome watched her storm across the room. Stupid woman, she thought. The Priestess of Death fretting over a few tears? Why, she didn't even know why she shed them! Just because she was a prisoner in a foreign land, kept by a man she'd once loved who'd used her, and who must now hate her. Kagome's shoulders slumped. She raised her head to cry to Keade to wait, but the door slammed behind the maid. Kagome sighed quietly. A hundred questions raced through her mind. Why was she here? And why was she in this room as if she were a guest? She should be in the dungeon if this was Sesshomaru's castle.

His image rose before her eyes. Brilliant Silver hair waving in a soft breeze. Golden eyes staring at her, calling to her with a hypnotic power. The corners of his mouth turned up in a devilish grin, the markings on his cheek looking Maroon against his porcelain skin. He was leaning against a wall, his right leg bent at the knee, crossed over his ankle. She had dreamt of him. The image was so familiar Kagome could have sworn it had been real. But she could not remember how the dream had ended. All she could recall was that he had stood like a dark god. Kagome swung her legs out of bed. She faltered as a wave of dizziness crashed over her, sending the room spinning around her. She closed her eyes, forcing the swirling to stop. It took a moment before the sickness dissolved.

From her seated position on the bed, Kagome surveyed the room. It was sparsely decorated, with one chair near the window next to a small table by the four-poster bed. A dark woven tapestry on the far wall depicted a horned man rising from a cave opening. Around the cave were wolves, their mouths dripping with saliva, their eyes glowing red. Two wolves faced the man, subservient, their heads hanging down to their chests. The two others were turned away, growling at the people who cowered and crawled over one another to reach the man, their hands outstretched toward him, some empty, some with offerings. Behind him, the large moon shone as a silver sliver.

Something was agonizingly familiar about the smug look on the horned man's face, but Kagome couldn't place it. Suddenly the door creaked and Kagome snapped her head around to see it pause halfway open. "C'mon. I paid ya a gold piece'. Ya said I could see her," a man's voice echoed in the room. "But she might be awake. I – I don't think –" Kagome recognized the voice as the girl she had seen with Keade. Kitten. "I could get a beatin', ya know." "I won't let that happin' ta ya," the man whispered. There was a moment of silence before the girl giggled. "Awright! Don't do that. It tickles me ear." The door swung open.

Kagome knew she should be angry at being displayed like some animal, but somehow she admired the girl's ingenuity. Her lips twitched with humor. As she straightened her back, ready for the confrontation, her feet swung and knocked into something. She quickly looked down to see a small stool near the side of the bed. Her eyes flashed to the open door where two shadows were entering. An idea popped into her head and a grin lit her face. Without taking her eyes from her victims, she positioned the stool beneath her feet.

The girl entered first, her shoulders hunched. The man followed her. The girl lifted her head only steps into the room to lock gazes with Kagome. "Gaw!" she cried, and froze. "She's awake!" She backed up as if to flee, but bumped into the man, stepping on his foot. "Ahhh!" he cried, and shoved the girl forward to the floor. "What ya tryin' ta do, Kitten?" He hobbled, holding his wounded foot. Then, seeing the girl gesturing wildly at Kagome, the man shifted his stare to her. Kagome raised her eyebrows and pouted, hoping to look defenseless . . . It worked.

The man put his foot down. "Is this the bloody Priestess of Death? She looks scared!" He turned a dark look on Kitten. "Is this a trick?" He raised a fist to strike her. "I ought ta –" Fear gripped Kagome's heart as her eyes focused on his raised fist. "I am Kagome De Higurashi," she said suddenly. He turned his full attention to her and stepped forward, lowering his hand. Kagome stared at him, carefully keeping her face blank. He moved forward, one tentative step at a time. "You're the one whose looks can turn a man ta stone? Closer. "You're the one who can turn a man's blood ta ice?" Closer. "You're the Priestess of Death who sacrifices our children to your dark lady?" He was directly in front of Kagome when he looked back at Kit. "There must be another one."

But when he returned his gaze to Kagome, she towered above him, arms outstretched, fingers clawing the air inches before his face. Her eyes were wild, her teeth bared. "Give me your heart! I must feast!" she growled in an inhuman voice. He screamed and clutched his heart as he raced for the door.

Kitten's scream joined his as she bounded after him. But she was too late; the door slammed in her face. Her fingers were clawing desperately at the wood when the sound reached her. She stopped, listening.

Laughter!

Slowly, Kitten turned, wide eyes gazing over her shoulder to see Kagome rolling on the bed, her arms wrapped around her stomach, gales of laughter issuing from her lips. Kitten turned, pressing her back to the door. She was frozen with fear. When Kagome saw her, she wiped the tears of mirth from her eyes and sat up. She pitied the girl for listening so trustfully to the legends. "It's what he wanted, wasn't it? It was what he paid for." Kitten gaped speechless as she stared at Kagome with terror. Kagome grinned mischievously. "And you got your gold."

Kitten did not move from the door.

"Kitten, is it?" Kagome asked, rising from the bed. She held out her hand. "Pleased to meet you. I am Kagome De Higurashi. I am the knight people call the Priestess of Death." When Kitten didn't move forward or take her hand, Kagome lowered it. "I'm the person you see before you now, Kitten. Just a woman like you who has feelings and fears. I do not practice Dark Magic, I am not an ice maiden, and I have never, in all my life, hurt a child." Kitten swallowed. "Ya mean, yer not gonna eat me heart?" Kagome chuckled, but quickly stopped as she saw the horror and belief etched in the girl's face and recoiling body. "No," Kagome stated simply, curbing the impulse to add, I only do that when the moon is full. Kitten frowned. Hesitantly, she edged a step closer. "I suppose I should be furious with you," Kagome stated. "After all, you did sell me for a gold piece. A different kind of concern filled Kitten and worry washed over her face. "You're not gonna tell his lordship, are ya?" Kagome opened her mouth to reply, but Kit continued, "I didna see any harm in it. 'E just wanted ta get a look at ya, is all."

Kagome smiled brightly. "No…I won't tell." Kitten sighed, but then, just as quickly, doubt furrowed her eyebrows. "I ain't signin' me soul away now." The door opened quite suddenly, causing Kitten to whirl around. Kagome saw Keade waddle into the room with a tray in her chubby hands. The old maid cast a sour look at Kagome, her cheeks puckered, her eyes narrow. Then, she turned her anger on Kitten. "An' what are ya doin' here?" "I – I –" Kitten stammered under Keade's berating tone. "Out. Now!" Keade ordered, slamming the tray down on the night table. Kitten scampered to the door. Kagome saw Kitten pause in the doorway long enough to cast her a thoughtful gaze. Then, she turned and was gone. Keade whirled and with a 'harrumph' was off toward the door.

Kagome opened her mouth to object, but the door was already slamming shut, leaving her alone in the room. With a sigh, Kagome lay back on the bed. Her eyes were again drawn by the tapestry. The horned man's eyes seemed to be focused on her. They were dark, like a midnight sky, reflecting the moon in their obsidian depths. They were so familiar…like…

Venison. The smell wafted to her senses and she sat up. Following the smell with her nose, she inched toward the tray. It was not until she saw the bowl of soup and the hard, crusty bread on the tray that she realized her stomach was rumbling. It had been days since she had last eaten.

The day before the battle.

She descended on the food like a starved child, shoving things into her mouth, slurping the tasty soup. When she had eaten almost half, she found she could not eat another bite nor take another sip or her stomach would explode. Kagome slowly sat on the edge of the bed. She rubbed her stomach, letting the wonderful taste of the food wash through her body, filling it. She lifted the towel and wiped her mouth, running her tongue over her lips to get the last taste.

Kagome groaned with pleasure and looked gratefully at the half-empty bowl. That's when she saw it; it had been hidden beneath the towel. The blade glinted in the morning light, and as if in a dream, Kagome reached out. Her long, slim fingers wrapped around the wooden handle of the dagger. She picked it up, holding it before her eyes, trying to convince herself it was real.

A dagger! She quickly looked to the wooden door. It somehow did not seem so large or impeding as it had before. Kagome pushed herself to her feet, only to find that the room tilted suddenly and she had to clutch the edge of the small table to steady herself. I should rest, she thought. But the lure of escape was much too strong. As soon as the dizziness faded, Kagome crossed the room on shaky legs, her bare feet treading lightly on the cold stones. When she reached the door, Kagome lifted the blade, easily sliding it between door and stonewall. She paused for a moment, wishing she had seen the lock, hoping it was similar to the bolt on the door of her room, the one Sota had locked her in with.

Sota! She froze, all of her nerves becoming numb. Where were her brothers? If they were alive, they never would have let her be captured. The thought flitted through her mind before she could stop it. Waves of cold terror crashed over her body and she had to slide the blade out of the door frame, afraid her trembling hands would drop it.

No, she told herself firmly. I mustn't think of this now. I have to escape. I have to get away before Sesshomaru . . . before I see him. Before he sees me and those deep eyes of his turn my senses into a confused muddle, before he touches me and brands me with his raw heat, before those lips touch mine and wipe out any rational defenses I have left.

She forced calm through her body. Again she slid the blade into the small opening. She moved the blade up until it hit the bar preventing her escape on the outside of the door. Then she worked it back and forth, searching for the knob. The blade caught on nothing. Frustrated, she stopped, switching hands. Back and forth. Again, nothing.

"Damn it," she muttered, flinging the blade up. It hit the bar with a thud – and the bar swung free! It twirled in a half circle and swayed uselessly. The door creaked open. Kagome stared, shocked at the simplicity of the lock. Slowly, she pushed the door open just enough to peek out. The long cold hall was dim except for muted rays of clouded sunlight from the windows high above that speckled the bricks with spots of brightness. There was not a soul in sight as Kagome stepped from her prison.

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Hey everyone. Here is another chapter. I know that this is a long story. It is supposed to be. Too many fanfictions I have seen are too short in my opinion. Hope you all like this chapter. Just had to put a bit of a laugh into it towards the end of this chapter. And do not worry Kagura won't be causing too much more trouble. I am quite pleased that people have been reviewing. It has 54 reviews. Please leave a contribution in the little box below. 10 Reviews by wednesday will get another chapter posted up this week. I can't wait to see the reviews. They keep me going.


	29. Chapter 28

Kagome hunched her shoulders, her bare feet treading delicately with each step as she moved down the murky hallway. She clutched the dagger in her hand, ready to do battle to escape. Anything to get away from Sesshomaru. Her escape would humiliate him, as he had humiliated her.

She turned the corner, her white nightdress swirling about her ankles. The halls were strangely quiet. At her mother's castle, the sound of children's laughter, the whispering of two maidens, or her mothers bellow could be heard at any given time. But here there was nothing except a strange silence, as if she were in the bowels of an abandoned hell.

Suddenly, her senses magnified. The hairs on the nape of her neck straightened and she froze, listening. No sound, no movement. Was it a trap? Every fiber in her body tingled with warning. Something was not right. Slowly, cautiously, she resumed her walk.

A grumble in her stomach, followed by a sudden onslaught of nausea, caused her to stumble. She grabbed the wall with her hand and bent over. The soup that had tasted so good rose violently in her throat and she vomited until dry heaves shook her body. Tears dripped from the corners of her eyes as she wiped a hand across her mouth. Gasping, she leaned her back against the cool stones of the wall.

She heard a noise from behind her and slowly turned her head. A girl no more than twelve stood staring at her.

Kagome watched recognition wash over her young face. The girl gasped and ran away. Kagome knew she should move, that an alarm would be sounded soon, but her body suddenly felt heavy, like the floor was pulling her down. As she pushed herself from the wall, her muscles ached with protest. Every bone in her body objected as she continued down the hall and her mind reeled, causing her to stagger more than once. Finally, she paused and shook her head, trying to clear it.

"It's the Priestess of Death!"

Kagome looked up to see two knights. The shorter knight wore a full suit of chain mail, where the taller knight with the bright yellow hair and thick straw beard wore only a tunic and leggings. They both stared at her in fear and awe.

Kagome's senses cleared enough to recognize their hesitancy. She raised the dagger before her. "Back away or I will cut out your hearts."

"She is only a woman," the yellow-haired man said after a moment. "We can take her."

"She is the Priestess of Death, Arion," the second hissed, already backing away, his hand protectively covering his heart.

Arion growled and stepped toward Kagome. Through the haze that had surrounded her, Kagome saw the respectful distance he gave the dagger as he circled to her left.

"Come on, girl," he goaded.

The dizziness fell over her like a blanket and she stumbled, lowering the dagger.

He came at her, and Kagome reacted by instinctively lifted the weapon.

"Argh!"

Kagome pulled back and shook her head to clear it. When the haze retreated, she gasped at the sight before her. Arion was slumped over, clutching his arm. Her dagger was on the floor, its tip marked with his blood.

Kagome inhaled sharply and stepped back. She turned to flee, only to run straight into Bankotsu! His fist came around fast. The impact numbed her cheek as the force of the blow spun her to the floor. Blackness invaded her vision, and Kagome clenched her fists, willing the darkness away.

"My arm!"

"How did she get out?" Bankotsu's voice sounded in her head like a gunpowder blast. "Where did she get a dagger?"

Kagome felt the cold stone beneath her fingertips as she clutched at them for an anchor. Suddenly, she was pulled to her feet by her hair and held dangling before Bankotsu. Kagome tried to stop the pain that shot from her scalp through her body by standing on her toes. She grabbed her hair where Bankotsu held it to prevent another sharp burst of agony.

His voice rang in her ears. "Where did you get the dagger?"

Kagome fought the pounding that rocked her head. But when Bankotsu shook her, yanking her hair until it felt like it was going to rip out of her skull, the throbbing exploded into a million stars of pain. Kagome wanted to scream from the agony that seared across her head with each tug, but she held it in with all her willpower. She vowed she would never show such weakness to these damned pigs.

Bankotsu snarled. "Who gave you the dagger?" Even under his abuse, she did not open her mouth. Her pride kept her lips tightly shut. Suddenly, the violent shakes ceased. "Perhaps a flogging will loosen her tongue," Arion commented, eyeing her. Kagome had witnessed many floggings, and fear stiffened her innards. Arion shoved his arm at Bankotsu. Blood dripped from the open wound and he snapped, "It is my right."

Kagome saw Bankotsu nod before Arion seized her arm and pulled her down the hall and down a flight of stairs. She could barely keep up with the knight's large steps. She stumbled, only to be hauled back to her feet by his hold on her arm.

When they paused before the outer door of the castle, Kagome turned her head to see an immense group of people following. Some were knights, some servants. All looked angry. Some opened their mouths, but Kagome could barely make out what they were saying. Through her fear and sickness, her mind muffled and combined voices so that she could not understand the words.

The door opened before her and a small body dashed out into the dim sunlight, running down the road. Directly before her in the dusty courtyard she saw a small platform on top of which were two wooden poles, each with a rope dangling from it. Arion yanked her forward, drawing her toward the platform.

Stormy gray clouds rolled in, blocking the sun from view. Kagome saw lightning flash in the sky. A roar began in her head, and at first, Kagome thought it was thunder from the storm, but then, after it continued relentlessly, she realized it was the crowd. She twisted her head around to see that the large crowd was following them, streaming from the castle like jelly oozing from a spilled jar.

Arion yanked her up the two stairs of the platform. Her nightgown entangled her legs and she would have fallen except for the knight's viselike grip on her upper arm. As he pulled her between the two poles, the first drops of rain broke from the clouds, spattering the platform below her feet. The knight seized her arm and tied it tightly to the pole, wrapping the rope around and around her wrist, until the blood stopped flowing to her hand.

Kagome stood still, her chin raised, gazing off down the road. Villagers were coming, running up the dirt road, a horde of incensed westerners.

A pellet of rain struck Kagome's cheek. As Arion tied her other wrist, the first villager reached them. So did the first rock. The stone missed her by a foot, bouncing harmlessly on the wooden platform. Arion whirled on the villagers, his lips curled in fury. He held up his arm to show his cut. "First blood. I claim it. There will be no stoning." A moan of disappointment rippled the crowd. Kagome saw some of the villagers open their hands. Rocks fell out.

Suddenly, her hair was yanked back and she cringed as Arion stuck his face into hers. "Fifty lashes, love," he whispered before his snakelike tongue flicked out and ran along the length of her cheek. He released her and disappeared somewhere behind her. She felt the neck of her gown being seized, and with a savage yank the back of the nightdress tore free from the front.

The downpour began, heavy and punishing. What was left of Kagome's dress clung to her body, the material hugging her tighter with each drop. The crowd became strangely quiet and Kagome saw the men's eyes rake her. No one moved for cover from the rain. They wanted her hurt. They wanted blood. What kind of people were these?

Kagome hated them. She had never hated them as much as she did now. Her mind cleared, all sickness washed away by the cleansing rain. She felt someone press against her back, heard a voice. "No, m'lord! She is ill! She will na last under fifty lashes!" "Out of the way, Keade," Arion answered. "There is a traitor in our midst, and I am to find out who gave her the dagger." "But she is sick!" the woman protested. "M'lord Sesshomaru will be furious." "Stand aside, old woman," the knight's voice was stern. "Or you will be next." Slowly, Keade backed away, wringing her hands. Kagome heard the crack of the whip behind her. Instinctively, she stiffened, preparing herself for the pain. The crowd swayed with anxiety.

"Whip her!" a faceless voice screamed.

Another crack of the whip sounded behind her. Someone laughed. The rain trickled down her forehead, over her eyes and cheeks and into her mouth. Kagome blinked it away. The crowd gasped and she prepared to feel the bite of the whip, waited for the stinging lash to strike her, steeled her body for the pain . . .

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Hey all. A question was brought to my attention. So here is the answer. Kagome is known as a Priestess for her humane way of dealing with her enemies in battle and her slow way to anger. Just as Sesshomaru is called a demon because of his harsh dealings towards his enemies. No They do not have powers in this story. If I decide to change my mind I would completely rewrite the story. Or write a different one.

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I have the next few chapters ready to go. 30 reviews by midnight 6/20/17 will have 2 chapters put up on 6/21/17. So leave a contribution in the little box. Guest Reviews are welcome as well. So don't be shy.


	30. Chapter 29

The pain of the biting whip never came.

Instead, the rope that held Kagome was unbound from first one wrist, then the other. She stood shuddering, her fists clenched against the sudden chill that engulfed her body. A blanket was hung over her shoulders, and heavy hands kept it in place. She felt herself being turned around. Kagome raised her eyes to the giant who stood before her. She blinked the downpour of rain from her eyes to see –

Sesshomaru!

A sudden surge of happiness swept her entire body. He was not dead! She had wanted to believe it, wanted so desperately to let herself believe it, but until now there had still been doubt. She wanted to throw her arms around his shoulders and cry with relief, but she could not move or breathe. At his touch, warmth seeped from his fingertips through the length of her body. She shivered, but it had nothing to do with the rain.

He guided her back toward the castle, but Arion stood to block their path. He presented Sesshomaru with the damage done to his arm. The rain smeared the blood, making the cut look ugly and gaping. "It is my right," he charged. "Inside," Sesshomaru commanded. His voice, carefully controlled, sent stirrings of anxiety racing like goose bumps along Kagome's skin. Arion whirled, storming into the castle.

Sesshomaru pushed her inside and the great crowd that had gathered to see her punished followed, surging through the doors. Sesshomaru's grip was much gentler than the knight's. He curbed his long strides so she could keep up with him. Then he took his hand off her, leaving her to walk under her own power, and Kagome found herself missing the warmth his touch had offered her.

Once inside, Sesshomaru halted. His glowing gaze sought out the knight. "What is your grief with my prisoner?" At his cold words, her heart froze. Prisoner? But I thought… her mind screamed. Fool! You thought what? That your enemy, the man who lied to you, who thought you were worth no more than just to use you, would steal you away from your people, your country to – to love you?! Fool!

"She has taken first blood," Arion stated, again showing Sesshomaru his wound. This time the blood flowed freely from the sore. "It is my right to do the same to her."

"Bankotsu!" The word ripped angrily from Sesshomaru's throat. Bankotsu pushed his way through the crowd to stand before Sesshomaru. "How did this happen?" Sesshomaru demanded. "She escaped. A traitor gave her a dagger," Bankotsu answered. Sesshomaru swung his gaze back to Kagome. Frozen gold eyes stared at her, but Kagome stood her ground. "Who gave you the dagger?"

Kagome raised her chin. "It was mine." "It is Eastern-made, Sesshomaru," Bankotsu supplied, staring at her with hostile, slitted eyes. Sesshomaru's gaze did not waver from Kagome. She would have withered under the penetrating intensity of that stare had she not been so enraged. "I demand my right!" Arion shouted. Sesshomaru turned to him. "I am your lord. You serve me. Therefore, first blood is mine – and I have already collected." Sesshomaru gripped Kagome's shoulder and turned her toward the stairs. Kagome pulled her shoulder free, flinging his hand from her. "Where is the blood, m'lord?" Arion shouted. Without pausing, Sesshomaru said, "I took her maidenhead."

Sesshomaru strode into the room after Kagome. He immediately saw the stubborn set of her jaw, her squared shoulders as she whirled to face him. Her hair hung in wet curls over her shoulders. A surge of relief swept through him. Kagome had been grievously ill for two and a half weeks. He himself had forced soup down her throat three times a day so she would not starve.

He had ridden north the last two days. The riding had done wonders for his tense body, helped his nerves, cleared his mind. And he was finally able to make a decision about what to do with Kagome. He knew he had promised King Tashio that he would punish her, but he realized that he never had any intention of harming her. The only alternative now was to ransom her to her Queen with the intent of giving the gold to King Tashio. Why did I bring her to Moonlight Castle ? he wondered. Because I want to feel her body tremble with desire. I want to touch her as no man has before. When I've tired of her, then I will return her to her people. And I will tire of her…as I have every woman before her. But by then my people will say that I have tamed the Priestess of Death.

Again, Sesshomaru thought of the ransom and grinned smugly. He had asked for such an outrageous amount of gold that he knew her Queen would never pay it, not even for the Priestess of Death. But at least King Tashio would have to acknowledge his efforts to enrich the royal treasury. Kagome would be his in time, to do with as he saw fit.

Then, as he was wandering through the forest lost in thought, a rider had found him, delivering an urgent message. Kagome was recovering! The relief that had surged through his body almost made him groan out loud. He rode like a man possessed, curiously the happiest he had been in days, driving his horse to the brink of exhaustion only to find Kagome about to be flogged! And now, hearing she had attempted escape! Gads! He didn't know whether to wring her neck or laugh. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Why didn't you let me die?" she demanded. Her cold words evaporated his joy at seeing her well and put him on the defensive. "You are more valuable as a prisoner than as a corpse," he remarked coolly. Kagome's eyes narrowed. "I think you have sadly overestimated me. I am of no value to you."

He stared at her for a long moment. Her rebellious locks hung damply over the blanket that concealed her wet nightdress. Sesshomaru grinned. "Surely the Priestess of Death, the infamous Eastern commander, has some value to her Queen." He watched the reply on her lips die. Sesshomaru wondered if she would tell him of her disgrace. Then he knew her pride would not allow her to. Kagome turned away. "Perhaps not as much value as you seem to place on my life," she snapped. "It sounds as though you are in disfavor with your Queen, Angel ," Sesshomaru prompted. "Did she remove your power" She raised her chin, glaring at him. "My Queen will pay whatever you ask."

She stood there, so haughty and mighty – in his castle. He wanted to take her in his arms and teach her the respect his knights and peasants gave him. Still, there was something challenging in her attitude that sparked his battle senses. The desire to touch her coursed through his body and he grabbed that raised chin, forcing it down so she was not looking down her nose at him. "You had better hope so. The longer you stay here, the more dangerous it will become."

Kagome yanked her chin free to glare at him. "I am not afraid of you. I will bring no ransom if I am dead." "I was not speaking of myself, but them." Sesshomaru jerked his chin over his shoulder at Bankotsu and a dozen other soldiers standing in the doorway. "They do not have as soft a heart as I," he said quietly, so that only she heard. She stared hard at the men looming in the doorway before sadness entered her sapphire eyes and she lowered them. Kagome sat on the bed, refusing to look at Sesshomaru.

Sesshomaru wanted to take her into his arms, to assure her that no harm would ever befall her at Moonlight Castle, but hesitated. His men had just had her strung up to be flogged! How empty his reassurances would be now. There would be a time, he told himself, when Kagome would be able to walk the hallways and be as safe as he was. But that time was not now.

He strolled to the door and closed it before the prying eyes. Then he moved to the bed and sat beside her. "Kagome, who gave you the dagger?" he queried gently. Kagome looked away. "It was mine," she murmured stubbornly. Sesshomaru sighed. "If you do not tell me, I will have to find some appropriate punishment." Kagome whipped her gaze around to him, her eyes wide. "You have never been punished before, have you?" "On the contrary! My worst punishment has been living these past months!"

Sesshomaru grinned. He lifted a hand to touch her soft cheek. "You missed me so?" he taunted, expecting a barbed reply. But when she did not answer, he couldn't help trailing his fingers across her cheekbone. The softness of her skin sent a smoldering warmth sweeping through him.

She pulled away and stood. "If you think I will remain in this castle as your whore, you are sadly mistaken." In her tower room in her father's castle she seemed so filled with desire for me, he thought. She was actually worried for my life. Now, I see the coldness of ice in her frozen sapphire eyes.

Sesshomaru closed on her. "I already have two whores and I have no intention of keeping another." He continued to approach and she backed into the wall. "And for your own protection, you will never again harm one of my men." He towered over her, his molten eyes glaring down. Her large deep blue eyes gazing up at him with fierce defiance. "Who gave you the dagger?" he repeated, leaning down so his lips were only inches from hers.

Kagome's response was a lifted chin, challenging him. It only succeeded in bringing their lips closer. "Do not underestimate me. This is my castle, and I am lord here," he whispered huskily. "My whim is law, Priestess." He was so close that their noses brushed lightly. He felt a sharp stab of desire course through every fiber in his body. Kagome opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Her gaze brushed over his lips, setting them afire.

As he leaned closer, he felt her body soften against him, mold to his body. All thoughts of interrogation vanished beneath the passion that pounded through his veins. He could smell the clean rain on her wet skin, feel the moisture of her nightdress as she let the blanket slide from her shoulders. He clasped her shoulders and saw the blue of her eyes deepen as her lids half closed. He leaned forward to kiss her…every dream he had of her was loving her, kissing her deeply, giving her pleasure she had never known.

He wanted to take her right then, but his honor rose like a shield. He could not touch her until the ransom was denied. And even the Prince of Demons was subject to the Code of Chivalry. Sesshomaru stiffened suddenly, drawing away from her with a deep groan of anger and regret. He turned his back on her. The lust that had ignited at the sight of her burned more painfully than any cut he had ever received.

He stormed to the door with every intention of leaving but paused when his hand closed around the handle. "Be dressed and ready for dinner. I will come for you." He closed the door, leaving her alone. Kagome stood stunned. It was just a game. He was trying to get information from her, and when she would not yield, he had stormed from the room like a spoiled child.

Then Bankotsu had told the truth, Kagome thought. Sesshomaru had only pretended an attraction to her to manipulate her. He had been with his lover while she'd recovered. He hadn't even cared that she was ill.

She paced angrily through the room. I never loved him, she told herself. But even as she did, she knew it was a lie. An old wound that ran so deep it ripped at her heart, constricting her chest painfully. Frustrated, she threw herself on the bed. She could not endure being so close to him. She must escape. But first, she vowed, I will get my strength back.

Kagome was indignant when a servant brought in a velvet blue dress for her to wear to dinner. She donned it in protest, mumbling and cursing the man who kept her prisoner. She was running a comb through her hair when three burly guards showed up to escort her to the Great Hall. He hadn't even come himself, she thought bitterly. The guards were all armed with sheathed swords, and were dressed in jerkins and hose. They led her through high-ceilinged halls of stone blocks and massive arched doorways that made her feel as insignificant as a fly. When they came to the Great Hall, the scene that assaulted Kagome made her pause. Her lips parted in disbelief.

The large room was filled with decadent laughter and loud guffaws. Maids fended off groping hands as they attempted to keep mugs full of wine. Soldiers, barbarians, sat at the long wooden tables. The tables themselves barely supported the pounding of fists as the demand for food resounded through the room. Four-legged beasts sat beside some of the tables, looking more like wolves than dogs. A belch sounded in the air somewhere.

Slowly the clamor stopped as all eyes turned to Kagome. She felt the hatred in their gazes like knives through her skin. She glared around the room at each dark look. Then something called her attention to the front of the room. Sesshomaru was sitting straight ahead, his golden eyes locked on her, his face unreadable. He was leaning back in a large chair, one black-hosed leg lying casually over the arm. His white shirt was open to his navel, his silver hair hung to the floor laying there like a pool of liquid silver and Kagome suddenly recalled how hot his skin had felt against her naked flesh. Kagome tried to push the thought from her mind, but it lingered like the aroma of a freshly cut rose.

An empty chair was positioned to Sesshomaru's right. Had he saved that chair for her? Kagome felt a tingle of hope touch her breast because even if she hated herself for it, she ached for his acceptance. Next to that chair, a dark haired woman sat hurtling venomous glances at Kagome, her red rimmed eyes overflowing with loathing. Kagome was sure she'd seen her somewhere before, but she couldn't remember where. She raised an unconcerned eyebrow, successfully ignoring the woman's poisonous stare. To Sesshomaru's left sat a woman whose red hair appeared to have been pulled into two pigtails. She sipped from her goblet, keeping her gaze locked on Kagome over its rim. Beside the red-haired woman sat a group of people who looked like nomads with their fur and unkempt hair. From their gazes, Kagome felt humor and curiosity, but no animosity. She wondered briefly who they were to be seated at the head table.

Sesshomaru swung his leg off the chair, returning her attention to him, and rose. He grinned at her. Kagome felt her knees weaken at his heart-melting smile. She walked slowly down the long room, leaving her guards behind, her gaze never wavering from Sesshomaru. "Join us," Sesshomaru said.

Was she a prisoner or a guest? Kagome wondered. Did she have the right to refuse? Kagome moved around the long table, ignoring the Western soldiers and their women as they turned to follow her passage, to sit in the chair at Sesshomaru's right. But Sesshomaru quickly grabbed her elbow and lifted her back to her feet. The dark-haired woman exhaled a hiss between her clenched teeth.

"Over there," Sesshomaru said, and motioned to an empty chair at a table near the hearth, in the middle of his men Kagome knew that to show defiance now might mean death. Although she feigned nonchalance, she could not help but feel disappointment. She silently berated herself for falling victim to his smile. She was a prisoner. Bravely she walked to the spot he had designated for her and sat down. She glanced at the men around her. To her right was a man who wore a gray tunic with ripped leggings. His brown hair was unruly and looked as though he had never combed it. When he noticed her staring at him, a lopsided grin spread across his face. He looked like he belonged in the woods.

"Pour her some wine," Bankotsu suggested from his seat opposite her. "It will help loosen her bowels. They must be all puckered up, judging by that unpleasant look on her face." The men roared with laughter. Kagome swiveled her head toward Sesshomaru just in time to see a smile twitch his lips. He motioned for a servant to fill her glass. "The unpleasant look on my face is from the company. It has nothing to do with my bowels," she retorted evenly.

Bankotsu ignored her and raised his mug high, some of the wine splashing onto the table. "A toast. To the dreaded Prince of Demons, the man who captured the cursed Priestess of Death!" The men cheered and slapped their mugs together. Sesshomaru raised his golden goblet, nodding in acceptance of the toast. He took a deep drink. Kagome watched his throat work as he drank, saw the way his lips kissed the lip of the cup. A rebellious stirring formed in her lower stomach. She quickly looked away to her own mug on the table. She fought the heat that surged through her body the only way she knew how…with defiance. She pushed the mug away.

"Perhaps she does not like Western wine," a soldier sitting at her left commented, glaring at her. "She likes Western swords," Arion chuckled. He was seated beside Bankotsu. "She let the lord show her how one is properly handled!" All around her, the table shook with laughter and lusty chortles. Kagome's jaw stiffened with outrage. She glanced up at Sesshomaru to find him speaking earnestly with the red-haired woman. He wasn't even paying attention to her! At least when he was in her hall she knew what he was doing every second. Her straight shoulders slumped. A lot of good it had done him, she thought. Her countrymen had still challenged him.

"Your gaze does not seem to be turning any of our blood to ice," Bankotsu murmured. Kagome's gaze turned back to him. His eyes were narrowed, his mouth thin. He hated her with all his soul; she could see it in his eyes. He would like nothing better than to run her through. Arion stood, leaning over the table toward her. "Come on. Turn my blood to ice. Let me see one of your looks." Kagome slowly raised her eyes to his. She did not say a word, but challenged him with a slight narrowing of her eyes. If only she had her truth powder, she would show him where that legend had originated.

Kagome wished with all her heart that she had a weapon. She didn't like the gleam in this knight's eye. She glanced down and saw that his wrist, where she had cut him, was wrapped in a dirty cloth. At his side, she saw her salvation – a sheathed sword. Confidence filled her. Kagome felt eyes on her and subtly shifted her gaze to see Sesshomaru watching her. He was staring at her with such intensity that it made her body burn. She swung her gaze back to Arion. She needed to get close to him to get his sword. If only, for once, she could use her body to be seductive. But how? She was not trained in such things.

But the whores with her army were. She had seen how they seduced her soldiers. A sweet smile, a show of flesh, a bold caress. She smiled coyly. "The legend is wrong," Kagome said quietly, leaning toward him. "It is not ice." She glanced up at him through lowered lashes and watched as his lecherous gaze swooped down to her breasts, then hungrily rose to her eyes. As an afterthought, despite the growing feeling of nausea in her stomach, she licked her lips. "Then what is the truth?" Arion demanded in a hoarse voice. As a hush fell over the table, Kagome smiled, savoring the moment of control. "Ask your lord." She casually reached for the mug of wine she had previously pushed aside.

Arion vaulted the table, grabbed her elbow, and pulled her to her feet in the blink of an eye. Her wine sloshed onto the table as the mug was knocked over. "I wasn't asking him, I was asking you," he snarled angrily. His breath, thick with wine, was hot on her lips; his teeth ground each word out; his blue eyes burned into hers. "What does men's blood turn into?" Kagome stared at Arion, returning his hot gaze with one of her own. "Fire," she whispered. She leaned into his body, reaching for his sword.

Suddenly, she was pulled away from Arion and landed on the floor in a mound of blue velvet. Her head was spinning, and when she shook it clear and glanced up, Kagome saw Sesshomaru land a blow to Arion's jaw. She stood quickly as Bankotsu and Hakakku planted themselves between the two.

Arion rubbed his jaw and stood slowly. His brows were furrowed with disbelief, his lips drawn down in a pout of perplexity. He gestured at Kagome. "She's just a prisoner!" he said vehemently. "She is mine," Sesshomaru growled, and surged forward only to be caught by Hakkaku and another soldier named Ginta "We have always had free use of the prisoners," Arion stated. "Not ransomed prisoners. Not this prisoner," Sesshomaru replied. He calmed in the men's hold, but his jaw was stiff and his back straight. "Take Kagura instead." Arion paused, looking at Kagome, then slowly withdrew.

Kagome felt herself tremble as Sesshomaru turned to her. The two men had released him and he approached her. His furious gaze made her heart pound. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her chair. She could feel the heat of anger radiating from him, feel his strong grip on her wrist. He leaned close to her and Kagome trembled. He whispered, "Next time, I will not stop them."

Her spine straightened at the threat, her heart beating frantically from the encounter. Suddenly, darkness began to close around her and she struggled to fight it off, but it advanced like a swarm of arrows.

Sesshomaru's supporting hand withdrew and he started to return to his seat. Suddenly, he turned back to her to add something. But she never heard what it was, for in the next moment, she was falling under the impact of those arrows . . .

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Hey all. Here is another chapter a bit earlier then I planned. No worries though. As long as there are 18 more reviews (100 in total) I will post another chapter tomorrow as well. I have been working all night to get this chapter and another one done for everyone. So I hope you all enjoyed the chapter I put up for you.

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Also I am going to rant a bit here. To the _**Guest**_ who had the _**AUDACITY**_ to criticize how _ **I**_ put the chapters up in _**MY**_ story. . . _**You do not know what is going on in my life**_ . . . it just so happens that there is a _**WHOLE FAMILY**_ that uses this computer for _**WORK**_ and the few times _**I**_ get the computer I tend to type _**ALL NIGHT**_ to try to get chapters posted up! I didn't _**HAVE**_ a lot of time to type up my last chapter. I apologize for the inconvenience it caused _**YOU**_ having to waste your time with such a short chapter! (That was sarcasm) The next time someone wants to criticize don't. Or create an account this way drama that is not part of the story is NOT pulled into the story. _**I WILL BLOCK GUEST REVIEWS IF IT HAPPENS AGAIN!**_ As far as I am concerned? _**MY**_ story. _**My**_ chapters. _**My**_ decisions. _**End of discussion!**_

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To all my OTHER reviewers: thank you for putting up with how I update my story. I really DO appreciate all the reviews and I am glad that you give such intriguing reviews. I love seeing how you are all trying to guess what will happen next. It does give me some ideas. So keep the reviews coming please. Unless you are going to criticize me for how I am posting. Leave the flame roasting of the author out of it. (See above statement if confused about anything)


	31. Chapter 30

Sesshomaru stared down at Kagome as she lay in his bed, at her soft, soft skin, her peaceful expression, the way her eyelashes rested on her cheek, her full lips. She was the picture of a sleeping Princess. A smile curved his lips. What a deceitful creature she is. Even in sleep she seeks to seduce me.

Sesshomaru rose and began to pace. What was he doing? he wondered. He had defended her before his soldiers, before his friends, and before the Wolf Demons. He had called her his. The idea that he could want this infamous Eastern Devil was outrageous. And still, when Arion had touched her, Sesshomaru had exploded with rage, a fury that had never taken hold of him before. The anger had flooded his senses and his logic, totally obliterating his self-control.

She stirred and Sesshomaru moved to her side, sinking to one knee by the bed. He gently wiped a stray strand of hair from her cheek as he leaned over to be closer to her. He smiled softly to himself, not quite believing that he had rose to her defense so swiftly. He studied her porcelain face. There was a serene quality to her restful features, a calmness that belied the troubled soul beneath. Then, just as quickly, his smile vanished. I may be her protector now, but there will come a time when I will have to protect my people from the Priestess of Death, he thought.

The door banged open and Kagura entered the room. Sesshomaru rose from the floor, turning his gaze to her. "What is it, woman?" "You told Arion to take me. In front of all those men. They will think I am for their amusement," Kagura said, her dark eyes flashing. Sesshomaru merely turned back to Kagome. "My lord," she whimpered, stepping forward, "she killed our Child. She tried to sit in her chair. I –"

Sesshomaru whirled on her. "I told you," he snarled, "she had nothing to do with the fire." Kagura withdrew as his tall form loomed over her, her eyes filled with a cold realization. "She has changed you," she whispered. "You are not the Prince of Demons any longer. The Prince I knew would have ripped out her throat for killing his kin."

"Hear you nothing that I say, Kagura? She did not start the fire! She would not kill her own men and animals just to kill Rin." "Listen to yourself defend her," Kagura hissed. "She has worked magic over you." "Leave me. Go to Arion," Sesshomaru said, his voice strangely calm, even while his hatred for her burned like the flames that took his boy's life. Kagura gasped and slowly backed to the door.

He waited until she was gone and the door had closed behind her before he clenched his fists and turned toward the window. His anger stretched his nerves taut like a bowstring. He would not tolerate her disobedience. He stared out at the village beyond the window, his fingers still curled tight.

Kagome watched Sesshomaru. She could see his corded neck muscles, the stiff set of his jaw as he stood at the window. A vague memory flashed through her mind of Sesshomaru standing, half-wild, before the window in her father's castle. Suddenly, she longed to throw her arms around him to prevent him from jumping. She sat up in bed –

Sesshomaru turned, and for a moment their gazes locked. Kagome shivered under the intensity of his rage, the flame of a candle reflected in the golden depths of his eyes. He moved forward; the power in each step, each movement, was intoxicating. She found herself dizzy and calm in the same moment. He was wreaking havoc on her senses.

"Kagome," he said. His voice held no hint of the anger that was aflame in his eyes, but the timbre of his voice sent shivers of ice down her spine. Her heart pounded under the heat of his molten gaze. "We have unfinished business," Sesshomaru commented. Kagome could barely swallow. She could not help but glance at his lips before turning her eyes back to his. "A punishment," Sesshomaru said. "Not only for attempting escape, but I warned you to stay away from my men."

It was like a bucket of cold water had just been dumped over her head. She scowled at him. "Punishment? Sitting among those savages you call your soldiers was punishment enough." "Silence!" Sesshomaru roared. He moved to the side of the bed, towering over her. "You have defied me, Kagome De Higurashi. I will not tolerate such insolence from my prisoners."

Anger, fierce and sudden, jarred Kagome. Her eyes widened with rage and she knelt on the bed, her back as straight as a board. "You ordered me down there! Did you not expect some sort of clash? Your people despise me." His glowering eyes darkened and he reached out to seize her wrist. Kagome dodged his grasp easily, moving to the other side of the bed.

Slowly Sesshomaru straightened. His hair brushed the black velvet material that hung from the bed. His black eyes shimmered. "You are making this harder on yourself, Priestess." His lips curled and she saw a flash of white from his teeth.

She stood facing him, the large bed a barrier between them. He never thought I was beautiful. He used the words to manipulate me. I will never forgive him. I must never forgive him. But his glare made her warm all over. She tried to fight the feeling that was washing over her like droplets of hot rain, inflaming her body slowly but completely. Kagome straightened her shoulders, her breath coming in harsh gasps, her chest rising and falling. Sesshomaru's gaze slowly lowered from her eyes to her chest.

Kagome watched as his look of anger began to fade and was replaced by something else. His intense gaze burned into her, searing her to the floor, burning through her veins. He approached her, and she did not back away. She wanted him to touch her. She needed to feel the caress of his lips, his hands. She stood facing him. Tingles covered her body, running up and down her arms. He stopped directly in front of her. Her whole being froze, anticipating the feel of his strong arms around her, the heat of his body, his hot breath on her cheek.

But he did not touch her. "Your punishment, Priestess," his voice caressed the words as his eyes devoured her, "will be to accompany me to break the fast, and dine. You will be with my soldiers and people as much as possible throughout the day. And you will show them respect." He lifted a finger and ran it along her sensuous lips. "The same respect you show me."

Kagome parted her lips slightly at his touch, his words drifting somewhere at the front of her mind unheard. The gentleness of his caress startled her into silence as she gazed at his perfect grin, the glimpse of teeth as he spoke. Then he was turning away, heading for the door. Kagome knew a disappointment she had never felt before. Her lips tingled where he had touched them and her skin felt cold. Suddenly and quickly, shame wrapped itself around her in a blanket of guilt. She hugged her elbows. He paused at the door and turned to look at her. Kagome felt his heated gaze rake over her body, smoldering like a burning ember. "Be ready for the morn. The savages await your company," he said and quit the room.

Outside the room, Sesshomaru paused, his hand on the latch. The burning in his body flamed outward, searing his very skin. He wanted her. The ache in his loins was hard proof of that. For a moment, he stood, battling himself. Her curves hidden beneath her dress taunted him. The dark riotous curls of her hair dared him to return. He knew it would not be honorable to take her, not matter how much he wanted her. He had to wait until the ransom was denied. Then, instead of being the infamous French commander, she would be merely a woman disavowed by her country, a woman in danger of being locked away in the dungeon for the rest of her life. Not that Sesshomaru would ever lock away his attraction to her that easily. When the ransom was denied, he would arouse that fire in her again. The fire that closed her eyelids dreamily, the fire that parted those luscious lips in want. He would hear her call out his name in passion. He would make her his woman in body as well as in soul.

He pulled his hand from the door. But for now, he would wait. He hoped the messenger would arrive soon. He didn't know how much more waiting he could possibly endure. Already his blood boiled at the mere mention of her name. "Prince!" Sesshomaru lifted his eyes to find Bankotsu approaching. "There is someone I think you should see." Sesshomaru's dark brows drew together and he pushed himself from the door to follow Bankotsu.

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"Please, m'lord," the man whimpered, as his round eyes locked on Sesshomaru. The rising moon's rays streamed in through the windows and the Great Hall was flooded with illumination from the roaring hearth, but the light just barely hit the three men where they stood at the far end beneath the stained glass windows.

Sesshomaru stood with his arms akimbo, his confused gaze sweeping the man before him. The way he hunched his shoulders and bowed his head made him look like an abused dog cowering before its master.

"You have nothing to fear," Bankotsu told the man, then turned to Sesshomaru. "I overheard him telling the story at the Inn." Bankotsu then addressed the man. "Go ahead." It was the way Bankotsu's voice coaxed the man that grated Sesshomaru's nerves. He was up to something and Sesshomaru didn't know whether to believe what the man was going to say or behead them both. "Go on," Sesshomaru said, his voice echoing softly in the large room.

When he spoke, his voice was tiny. Like a mouse, Sesshomaru thought. If he had a tail it would swoosh. "I went up to her room." Sesshomaru felt an unreasonable rush of anger, but he kept his body absolutely still. He knew instinctively that it was Kagome they were speaking of. "Did you touch her?" For a moment, the man looked baffled. His gaze darted to Bankotsu before he said, "No." "Then what were you doing there?" "I – I wanted to see the Priestess of Death." "He paid one of the serving girls," Bankotsu supplied. The man clutched his hands before him. "Please, m'lord. Don't punish me. I only wanted ta see –" "Continue," Sesshomaru's voice boomed in the room.

Visibly trembling, the man swallowed hard and lowered his fists to his side before Sesshomaru's dark demeanor. "She is a demon, m'lord. She had fangs the size of a cow's calf, glowing red eyes, and claws!" "And you actually saw these fangs and claws?" Sesshomaru asked darkly. The man nodded vigorously. "And she flew!" Sesshomaru turned away and bowed his head. "N she came at me like a bloody bat from…" He made the sign of the cross. "Lord protect us." The man looked up at Sesshomaru and finished with, "…hell." "You are dismissed," Sesshomaru whispered.

"I jus' come in and she be all docile and quiet like. But as soon as I got close ta her, she swooped down, shrieking and saying she wanted me bloody heart!" He placed his hand protectively over his chest, his words now directed at Bankotsu, who was watching Sesshomaru.

Sesshomaru's shoulders trembled and Bankotsu was positive it was with anger. "Go!" Sesshomaru barked. The man promptly scurried from the room, bowing all the way out. Bankotsu frowned. "Prince?"

Sesshomaru threw back his head and gales of laughter burst from his lips, echoing throughout the large room. A servant paused as he crossed the hall to the kitchens to cast a curious glance at his lord. A dog foraging in the rushes for food raised its head, his straight, pointed ears listening to the strange sound. The thought of his Priestess, with the pliant lips and soft skin, depicted as a Hellspawn, was ridiculous! The only glowing he had ever seen in her eyes was the fire of lust.

Bankotsu's mouth dropped. "I – I fail to see the humor." "Don't you see what the little wench is doing?" Sesshomaru said after catching his breath. He put his hands on his thighs and bent over from a slice of pain in his side. "You mean, besides scare the man half to death? I'm surprised she didn't sprout wings!"

"What a mind! Even here, a prisoner within my own walls, she continues her legend!" Sesshomaru threw up his hands in exasperation. "And I thought it was her brothers who had spread the lies!" "You don't believe she's a hellspawn?"

"Good heavens, no." Sesshomaru turned to stare at him, his mood sobering as he saw the seriousness in Bankotsu's eyes. "You can't tell me you, a warrior, a knight of the realm, actually believe in hellspawns." Bankotsu looked away from his questioning lord, giving Sesshomaru his answer.

"Hellspawn or no, as soon as The Eastern Queen's missive returns and she learns that her Queen has turned her back on her, she will be mine – on my terms."

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Hey all here is a new chapter. 19 reviews gets another chapter by Thursday


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